


Magical Relations - Third Year

by evansentranced



Series: Magical Relations [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Hogwarts Third Year, Magical Dudley Dursley, Slytherin!Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-02
Updated: 2012-02-02
Packaged: 2017-10-30 12:14:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 47,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/331634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evansentranced/pseuds/evansentranced
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Dudley's third year. Highlights include private tutoring, Luna Lovegood, the wrong dormitory, and Rita Skeeter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> [](http://imgur.com/LEVeJFv)  
>   
> 
> 
> (banner by j1mmyj6zz, but the account I have for them is deactivated. Let me know if you know how I can credit them!) 

"The public is warned that Black is armed and extremely dangerous. A special hotline has been set up…"

"Boys, don't forget that your Aunt Marge is arriving today," Uncle Vernon said over the television as he finished his toast. "I expect you both to be dressed smartly."

Dudley and Harry nodded. Summer had been wonderful to Harry so far, a whole carefree month of writing back and forth with his friends and joining Dudley in avoiding Hermione's questions about their homework. He should have known it wouldn't come without a price. Harry poked at his bacon and sighed.

Uncle Vernon noticed this and his moustache twitched. "I'm letting you leave tomorrow,  _and_  I signed that Hogsmeade paper of yours," he said, addressing Harry directly. "You can mind your manners around your aunt while you're still here."

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry intoned. Uncle Vernon gave him one last look before saying goodbye and leaving for the station.

Uncle Vernon had informed them of Aunt Marge's visit a week ago, and Harry had immediately written to all of their friends, looking for a place to escape to for the week. Neville had been the only one to respond affirmatively, and so now Harry was planning on spending a week with Neville and his greenhouses, which he had sounded very excited about showing Harry in his reply.

Dudley speared another sausage and blinked, suddenly remembering something.

"Oh! I didn't tell you, did I?" He grinned and pulled a letter out of his pocket, handing it to Harry. "Ron's dad won the lottery, their owl arrived this morning with the news!"

Harry opened the letter and grinned at the newspaper clipping that had been included with the note. "Lucky I didn't ask to stay with him then, eh? I'd be in Egypt."

"Lucky?" Dudley asked incredulously. "They've got loads of cool stuff there! Three headed skeletons and all sorts!"

Harry laughed as he reached that part of the letter. "He says the last one was so bad his little sister wasn't even allowed in to see. Wonder what it was, he doesn't say."

They spent a while trying to think up things that could be worse than a three headed skeleton, becoming more and more gruesome and inventive as they went. The day was spent doing little else until Uncle Vernon got home, at which point they both put on nice clothing and went downstairs to greet him and Aunt Marge. They heard the crunch of gravel outside and Harry pulled the door open with a feeling of mild foreboding.

Aunt Marge stood on the threshold, suitcase under one arm and bulldog under the other.

"Dudders!" she roared, thrusting the suitcase into Harry's arms and coming inside to greet Dudley with a hug , a kiss, and a twenty pound note. "How's my little neffy-poo?"

Uncle Vernon followed her inside, smiling jovially as he shut the door behind him.

"Tea, Marge?" he asked, heading for the kitchen. "And what will Ripper take?"

"Ripper can have some tea out of my saucer," Marge said as the proceeded to the kitchen. "I'm so sorry about Petunia, Vernon. I always said that woman was a bit high strung…"

Harry watched them head into the kitchen as he adjusted his grip on Aunt Marge's bag. He reminded himself as he hauled it up the stairs that he was leaving tomorrow, and all he had to do was avoid Aunt Marge as much as possible until then. Hopefully, he would be able to use packing as an excuse and escape to his room after dinner.

He took a long time in putting Aunt Marge's suitcase away, so that by the time he got back, she had already been supplied with tea and fruitcake and was discussing her bulldogs with Uncle Vernon as Ripper lapped away noisily in the corner.

"…He pines if he's away from me."

Ripper began to growl as Harry sat down, directing Aunt Marge's attention toward him for the first time.

"So," she barked. "Still here, are you?" Uncle Vernon began to look slightly uncomfortable.

"Yes," Harry said. He saw Uncle Vernon's face and added, "Ma'am."

Aunt Marge seemed slightly mollified by addition. Uncle Vernon took the opportunity to cut in.

"The boy is really shaping up these days," he told her. "He's got himself a job that pays for his schooling. He's even been accepted to the same school as Dudders."

Aunt Marge's eyebrows went up and she looked back at Harry.

"Is that so?" she asked with a note of approval. "Finally decided to contribute to society, have you? Stop being a burden on your hardworking uncle?"

Harry bit his tongue. "Yes, ma'am," he repeated with difficulty.

"Well done, Vernon," she said with a curt nod. "He's a credit to your rearing skills. No doubt that ex-wife of yours was keeping it from showing. I never did understand what you saw in her, no offence meant, you understand…"

Harry stopped listening at that point, noting the look on Dudley's face. He wasn't taking the jibes toward his mother very well. He looked extremely upset and his knuckles were white on his fork. Uncle Vernon looked uncomfortable as well, but he wasn't taking it quite as badly as Dudley was.

"…There was just something  _wrong_  with that woman - "

_Crack!_

Aunt Marge's teacup split in half in her hand, spilling tea all over the tablecloth and her clothing.

"Goodness, Marge," Uncle Vernon said, standing up immediately to get a dishcloth. "Are you alright?"

"I apologise," Aunt Marge grunted, mopping up a bit of the mess with her napkin. "Must've squeezed it too hard, did the same thing at Colonel Fubster's the other day…I have a very firm grip, you know."

Uncle Vernon glanced at Dudley and Harry with a mildly suspicious yet grateful look as he wiped up the tea and changed the subject.

"Heard the news this morning, Marge?" he asked, wringing out the dishtowel. "What about that escaped prisoner, eh?"

* * *

Harry and Dudley had escaped from the table directly after desert, and they were up in Harry's room now, packing Harry's things for his visit to Neville's house.

"I wish I could come with you," Dudley said, flipping through one of Harry's photo albums morosely. "I don't much like Aunt Marge right now. Was she always this bad?"

Harry dumped a stack of shirts into his trunk and looked up at him. "Pretty much," he admitted. "She's really good at it, actually. Maybe Uncle Vernon will talk to her. I can't imagine he appreciates her talking about Aunt Petunia like that any more than you do."

"It was horrible of her, though," Dudley said softly, and Harry understood he was talking about Aunt Petunia now. "Leaving like she did. After I stopped being so sad, I was really angry at her."

Harry nodded and stayed silent, letting Dudley talk. He hadn't said anything about Aunt Petunia to Harry since he'd retreated into Riddle's book last year.

"It's been almost a year, you know. Since she left."

Harry nodded again. He remembered as well as Dudley did.

"She hasn't even written. I don't even know what's happened to her," Dudley said unhappily. "I tried sending her a letter by owl, but it came back unopened. That probably wasn't the best idea."

Harry had not known about this at all. He sat down on the bed next to Dudley, who had pulled his legs up and was leaning against the wall.

"You wrote her a letter?" he asked curiously. Dudley nodded.

"I thought of maybe sending it to her through the post, but I didn't know where to send it. Our grandparents on that side died before we were born, and we don't have any other living family on Mum's side."

Harry frowned. He had known his grandparents were dead, but he hadn't known when it had happened. "How do you know when grandma and grandpa died?" he asked.

"Mum told me all about them when we were little," Dudley said, momentarily sidetracked. "There are pictures in the albums, Harry. Didn't you ever wonder who they were?"

"I wasn't allowed to look in the albums," Harry said with a frown. "I don't even know where they are. There's one picture of them in the ones Uncle Vernon gave me for Christmas first year, but otherwise I've not seen any."

Dudley seemed to perk up a bit. "I'll tell you about them," he said, standing up. "Let me go get the pictures first, though. You need the pictures for the stories."

Harry waited bemusedly as Dudley ran downstairs to wherever the photo albums were kept. Dudley had seemed happy to be distracted from his search for his self-exiled mother, even if it meant bringing back memories of her by telling Harry her stories. At least they were happy stories. Harry heard Dudley running up the stairs, and moments later he burst in with a stack of albums, plopped them down on the bed next to Harry, and sat down, already riffling through one.

"Here's one from Grandma's birthday," Dudley said, pointing out one of their grandmother with a dismayed look on her face and a fork in her hand. Harry grinned. "Grandpa made her a cake, Mum said you can tell by the look on Grandma's face, she's just taken a bite, see…"

* * *

After breakfast the next day, Harry was packed and waiting in the garden for Neville to arrive. Harry had stressed the need for muggle transportation, warning Neville that his muggle aunt would be visiting, and that she was very nosy. He had put his trunk in the box Pansy had given him for his birthday last year, and put that and some clothing in a pack so that Aunt Marge and the neighbours wouldn't question his strange luggage. He had decided to take his snake along as well, and she was wound around his wrist under his shirt, napping. Now he just had to wait.

Dudley sat next to him, having brought out some lemonade and some regular playing cards so that they could enjoy the sunshine while they waited for Neville. It wasn't as much fun playing Exploding Snap when you knew that the cards weren't actually going to explode, but they gave it a go anyway.

"Boom!" Dudley exclaimed eventually, throwing his cards into the air and grinning. "You lose!"

Harry laughed. "How do I lose? It was your cards that exploded!"

"You have less points than I do, though, look." Dudley picked up his cards from where they'd fallen and showed them to Harry. Harry gave him an incredulous look.

"Is that how we're going to play it then?" he asked, shuffling the cards again. "Once you know your cards are better, blow them up?"

Dudley laughed and nodded. "Sounds good to me."

"But don't you loose thirty points when your cards explode?"

Harry and Dudley looked up to see Neville standing on the other side of the garden fence. There was a shiny black car parked behind him. Harry could see a man helping an elderly woman out of the back. Her hat had a stuffed vulture on it.

Harry and Dudley put the cards away, grabbed their cups, and went over to greet Neville and his grandmother.

"How's your summer been so far, Neville?" Harry asked in greeting, opening the gate for them.

"It's been nice," Neville said. "Harry, Dudley, this is my Gran, Augusta Longbottom. Gran, this is Harry Potter and Dudley Dursley."

Mrs. Longbottom had reached the group by this point, and offered her hand to both boys. "Neville has told me much about both of you," she informed them grandly. "It is an honour."

"It's an honour to meet you too, ma'am," Dudley said in his best 'polite to guests' voice. "Would you like to come inside?"

"I'm afraid not, we have much to be getting along with," she said graciously. "But thank you for the kind offer, my boy."

She offered her hand one last time and turned around to head back to the car. Neville smiled at Dudley and Harry and shrugged.

"I guess I'll see you at school, Dudley," he said, shaking Dudley's hand and following his grandmother back to the car.

"See you in a week or so, Dudley," Harry said, waving as he followed Neville. "I'll send you a letter."

Dudley waved back as Harry followed Neville to the car. The man, who Harry assumed was the driver, held the door for them and closed it behind them.

"We're just driving to London," Neville explained as they settled in and the car began to move down the street. Neville's grandmother pulled out the Daily Prophet and began reading. "We'll floo from there."

Harry nodded. Neville reached into his pocket and pulled out an Exploding Snap pack.

"Want to play for real?" he asked with a grin.

* * *

Neville's house was very…interesting. They didn't spend much time indoors, as Neville seemed most comfortable in the vast greenhouses that, as he told Harry, his portion of the basilisk had paid for.

"Gran was so proud when I told her what we did last year," he explained as they wandered through Greenhouse Six one day. "She got the best deals for all of it and I got to buy this before she put the rest of the money in my trust fund. I've also started building a hedge maze, come see!"

They left the greenhouse, Harry narrowly avoiding a bite from something that Neville called a 'baby tentacula', and headed across the grounds to an area of knee high hedges.

"Gran said that if I take care of them while I'm here and get it started, she'll hire some people to keep it up while I'm at school," Neville explained excitedly. Harry grinned as his friend hopped over several hedges toward a part that had gotten up and was trying to wander away. "This is a bit of Wandering Shubbery," Neville explained, soothing the bush. "The trick is to train them to move only when no one is looking, so as to confuse someone inside the maze."

"Wicked," Harry said. Something was slithering near his feet, and as he looked down, a vine curled around his ankle in a friendly sort of way. "Nev, there's a vine on my foot."

"Oh, that's just the Devil's Snare saying hello," Neville said, coming over to investigate. "The plan was that it would capture you and then you'd be stuck in the maze, but so far it doesn't seem to want to be especially fierce. I'm going to read up on them next week and figure out how to make it a bit less friendly toward strangers."

The Snare curled it's way up Harry's leg, eventually ending up wrapped gently around one of his arms. Another vine wrapped around his back and Harry wondered bemusedly if this was what being hugged by a plant was like. His snake stuck her head out of his sleeve to see what was going on, and when she caught sight of the vines holding Harry, she hissed angrily.

" _Should I bite it for you?_ "

" _Please don't,_ " Harry replied. " _It's friendly, and anyway, it's a plant._ "

" _I eat plants sometimes, you know,_ " she hissed, looking down at the Snare in what Harry thought was meant to be a threatening manner.  _"It's not always mice and grasshoppers. Tell it that._ "

" _You eat the feathers off of my quills sometimes,_ " Harry hissed wryly. " _I think we both know you're not exactly picky. And I don't speak Plant, anyway._ "

* * *

That night at dinner, after Neville had finished explaining how he was going to get some Whomping Willow seedlings from Professor Sprout after break ended, Neville's grandmother struck up a conversation with Harry. Harry had already learned why Neville had been so shy back in first year. Mrs. Longbottom was a very foreboding and exacting woman, who felt that tact was for younger, less esteemed people.

"I wonder, Mr. Potter, are you at all alarmed about Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban?"

Harry blinked.

"What?"

"Sirius Black, boy," she repeated. "What is your opinion on his escape, given your history with him?"

Neville looked between the two of them worriedly and interrupted. "Gran, Harry's been with muggles all summer, he wouldn't be getting any wizarding newspapers."

"Nonsense, Neville," Mrs. Longbottom said dismissively. "The muggles are aware of his escape as well. The Daily Prophet had said that it is in their news. The name is recognisable enough."

Harry still felt confused. "He's escaped from Azkaban?" he asked confusedly. Neville nodded.

"We still have that paper, if you want to look at it, Harry," Neville suggested. Harry nodded, and they both excused themselves from the table to go find it.

Neville led him into the library and began looking through a stack of old papers on a shelf.

"Gran saves the important headlines," he explained. "She says they bring back the really interesting memories."

He found the paper he was looking for on the end and handed it to Harry.

' **SIRIUS BLACK ESCAPES FROM AZKABAN** ' the headline screamed. Harry read though it twice. His parent's once best friend, turned spy for Voldemort, turned insane Azkaban escapee. The article said he was the first person to ever break out. Harry wondered how he'd escaped.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Neville asked uncertainly. Harry sighed and rested his forehead on his palm.

"I don't know," he said, starting to feel a bit angry. "I mean, I'm upset, yes. I remember reading about him in some book first year. He betrayed my parents, didn't he?"

"Well, no one's really sure what happened, but it certainly seems like it," Neville said uncertainly. "The papers say he killed Peter Pettigrew, and he was one of your parent's friends as well. All they found was a finger."

Harry thumped the table he was sitting at in frustration. His snake came slithering out of his sleeve to see what was going on.

" _Are you alright, Harry?_ " she asked curiously.

" _The person who killed my parents escaped from prison,_ " Harry hissed in explanation.

" _If this person hurt you, I'll bite them for you,_ " she promised, slithering in angry circles on the table. Neville watched curiously, sitting down across from them.

" _He didn't hurt me, he hurt my parents,_ "Harry hissed, then frowned. " _Well, he let someone hurt them, and he killed one of their other friends too. And a lot of other people._ "

She stopped slithering and rose up on her end curiously. " _Why was he in charge of them? Were they very small?_ "

Harry grimaced. " _No, he was supposed to…well…he did…it was his fault…_ "

Harry stopped hissing and thought about it. He really had no idea what had happened. The newspaper and all the books had said was that it had been Black's fault, and that he had killed Peter, and then he had been put in Azkaban. There had never been any details.

He would just have to find out what had happened for himself, then.


	2. The Train

When Harry arrived back at Privet Drive, Aunt Marge was thankfully long gone. Harry and Dudley spent the next few weeks corresponding with their friends and doing homework whenever one of Hermione's letters arrived and made them feel guilty, but otherwise they did very little until their booklists arrived and it was time to go to Diagon Alley.

Harry was hoping that he would be able to find out more about Sirius Black once he was back in the wizarding world. He had ordered a subscription from the Daily Prophet, but the newspaper told him nothing that he hadn't already found out at Neville's house. In fact, he found out more from Neville than the paper revealed, including that one of Sirius Black's cousins was the reason why Neville lived with his Gran. Apparently the whole family was bad, not just Black himself.

It had happened not long after Harry's own parents had been murdered. Black's cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange, had hurt Neville's parents so badly that they were still in the hospital, and, as Neville said, barely recognised him. He had even shown Harry his boxful of bubblegum wrappers, and explained that his mother gave him one every time he visited, and it was because of this that he still thought that she might know him, 'No matter what Gran says'. Harry had never realised how much he and Neville had in common, and they had begun writing back and forth regularly.

The trip to Diagon Alley turned out to be just Harry and the all Gryffindors. Blaise, Draco and Anthony had already done all their school shopping before Harry's owl reached them, and Pansy was apparently making a day of it with her mother. Ron would be arriving back from his trip to Egypt at the same time that Hermione was getting home from France, and they planned it so that Harry and Dudley would be dropped off by Uncle Vernon at the Leaky Cauldron and Ron's family would take them all to Kings Cross the next day. Neville had decided to put off going to Diagon Alley as well, in order to come with them, although he wouldn't be staying the night.

Harry and Dudley met Ron and a few of his siblings in the Leaky Cauldron as planned, and they were all extremely freckly, which was no surprise. Hermione and Neville were already there as well, Hermione looking very brown and Neville looking as he had when Harry had last seen him.

"How was everyone's summer?" Harry asked as they walked down the alley, and received a chorus of responses from everyone. It all sounded very positive and exciting. Hermione had apparently done some astoundingly academic things in France, and Ron had sold some of his portion of the basilisk in Egypt and what little his parents hadn't forced him to put in a trust fund was now clinking merrily in his pockets as they did their shopping.

Fred and George, Ron's twin brothers, had joined them, along with their little sister, Ginny. She was as loud as her brothers, it seemed, and seemed to be trying to convince Ron to buy her something. Fred and George walked next to Harry, and from what he knew about them, he felt it prudent to be slightly worried.

He shifted closer to Hermione.

"What classes are you taking this term?" he asked her, eyeing the three stuffed bags she had picked up at the bookstore.

Hermione brightened. "Oh, the usual, you know, Charms, Potions, Defense, Herbology, Transfiguration…then I'm also taking Muggle Studies, Ancient Runes -"

"Hey, me too," Harry grinned.

Hermione smiled at him and continued. "Arithmancy?"

Harry shook his head. "Draco and Blaise are taking that, I think. Anthony too."

"Care of Magical Creatures?"

"Yup."

"Divination?"

"Dudley and I are in Divination," Ron cut in, Dudley nodding next to him. "Magical Creatures, too."

Hermione rolled her eyes theatrically, but with the slightest of smiles. Harry laughed at her.

"I'm not that bad!" Ron said indignantly.

"Of course you're not," Ginny cut in. "In fact, you're my favourite big brother, you know."

"I'm not buying you a broomstick, Ginny," Ron said immediately. "I'm going to buy myself a new wand. Then I'm going to buy myself some robes, and everything else. And then, if I have enough money left…"

Ginny brightened and smiled winsomely.

"I'll buy  _myself_  a broomstick." Her smile turned into a pout, and she turned up her nose at him.

"Fine then, Fred and George are my favourite brother," she proclaimed, flouncing over to walk with them instead.

They laughed and slung their arms around her as one.

"That's right, Gin," one of them said with a grin at Ron.

"The girl knows what's what," said the other. "When we're rich and famous, we'll buy her ten broomsticks!"

Ginny grinned and stuck her tongue out at Ron, who made a harrumphing noise and ignored her in favour of Neville and Dudley instead, who had begun a discussion on Quidditch.

"The Kestrels don't have a chance this year, are you crazy?"

Harry turned back to Hermione, who was looking through her own money bag now, and looking up at the stores contemplatively.

"My parents gave me some birthday money," she informed Harry. "I think I might get an owl, but I haven't decided yet…"

"The Menagerie is just over there." One of the twins pointed out a shop up ahead, the Magical Menagerie. "Ron has to get his fleabag rat checked out too, take him with you."

"Mum wants it to'run away', if you know what I mean," the other said with a wink. "We were thinking of taking it off his hands for her, but he practically sleeps with the thing."

Hermione wrinkled her nose at the idea and called Ron over to go into the shop. Harry followed the rest of the group over to Fortescues to get some ice cream while they waited.

"What do you have left to get?" Dudley asked Neville as they all sat down in a booth with their cones. Ginny sat down next to the three of them and squealed when one of the twins playfully flicked some of his ice cream at her.

"I already got most of my stuff, including a new wand," Neville said, pulling it out and proudly showing Dudley and Harry. "Cherry and unicorn hair, eleven inches."

"Nice," Harry said, admiring the new wand. "What classes are you taking then?"

"Care of Magical Creatures," Neville said. "Divination, don't know how Ron convinced me, and Gran spent the summer telling me what a 'wooly discipline' it is, but -"

Neville was interrupted by a commotion from the direction of the Magical Menagerie.

"Scabbers!" Ron came dashing out of the shop and threw himself down in front of a dustbin, apparently trying to coax his rat out.

Hermione emerged from the shop several minutes later, holding a large ginger cat and beaming.

* * *

"I still cannot believe she bought that monster," Ron grumbled for possibly the hundredth time the next day, sitting on the train and staring grudgingly at Hermione and cat curled up on her lap. Dudley sat with him, also eying them warily. Both of them had been pretty badly scratched up during the trip to Kings Cross that morning.

Harry sat between Neville and Pansy, who had found them before the train left and was, along with Hermione, engaged in playing with Hermione's cat and ignoring Ron. Blaise and Draco had found them an hour or so into the train ride and were now engaged in a game of chess, and were also ignoring Ron. The ride had been peaceful so far with the heavy rain hammering down on the windows, and it was getting dark when a there was a loud crash at the compartment door.

"What was that?" Neville asked, looking up from the book he'd been reading. Harry got up to look out into the hall curiously. Crabbe and Goyle were down the hall a ways, bumping into doors and walls as they ran, chortling.

"Draco's bodyguards," Harry said, and Draco rolled his eyes as he ordered his bishop to kill Blaise's knight.

"They're not my bodyguards," he said over the screams of the chess pieces. "I talked to them toward the end of the year and we agreed that they both have better things to do than follow me around."

"Really?" Blaise asked. "I don't remember that. What about your father?"

"They're going to make it up," Draco explained. "And they're going to tell me what they tell their fathers so I can have the same story. And then we go our separate ways, they're happy, Father is happy, everyone's happy."

The train was starting to slow down now. "We're nowhere near Hogwarts yet," Hermione said, checking her watch with a frown. "Why are we stopping?" Ron got up to look out in the corridor, as he was nearest to the door.

The train came to a sudden, jolting stop and, just as suddenly, the lights went out. Draco and Blaise's chess game ended up all over the floor, much to the pieces' rather vocal displeasure, and Ron jumped back just as the door slammed shut where his head had been.

"What's going on?" Pansy asked, sounding worried.

"There are people boarding the train," Neville said suddenly, looking out the window. "I-"

The door to the compartment slid open. "Ron?"

It was Ginny. "Over here," Ron replied. "Ow! My foot!"

"Sorry..."

"I'm going to go ask the driver what's going on," Hermione said.

"I want to know why it's so cold," Pansy said, wrapping her arms around herself.

Harry watched as Hermione's silhouette made it's way toward the door and suddenly stopped.

"It is rather cold in here," she agreed anxiously. "Is anyone else feeling particularly...uncheerful?"

Harry nodded to himself as the door slid open once again. Hermione stumbled back from the door and fell partly over his feet.

Harry hardly noticed this though, because there was a dark shape in the doorway that was making an awful rattling sound. The cold was intense now. Harry's eyes rolled up in the back of his head, and all there was was terrified screaming and a white fog.

* * *

"Harry! Harry wake up! Are you alright?"

"Wha...?"

"Are you alright?"

"I...who screamed?"

"What?"

Harry opened his eyes to see Blaise, Pansy and Hermione leaning over him, looking pale and concerned.

"Someone was screaming," Harry explained, sitting up and putting his glasses on when they were handed to him. His face was covered in a cold sweat.

"No one was screaming, Harry," Hermione said, Pansy nodding along. Harry looked around the brightly lit compartment and saw that everyone looked rather shaken up, Neville, Draco and Dudley in particular. He also saw another person that was entirely out of place on the Hogwarts Express, an adult with threadbare clothes and a large bar of chocolate.

"Hello Harry," the man said, breaking a large chunk of candy into pieces. "My name is Professor Lupin. Eat this." He handed Harry a piece of chocolate and passed the rest of it out to everyone else. Harry looked down at it and back up at the professor.

"Eat it," he repeated. "It'll help."

"What was that?" Harry asked, although he had a feeling he knew because of Hermione's comment from before.

"A dementor," Lupin said, confirming Harry's suspicions. "One of the dementors of Azkaban." He looked around at the group again and gave a reassuring smile. "Eat the chocolate. Now, I need to speak to the conductor, excuse me."

Harry waited until the professor left before asking, "What the bloody hell just happened? Where did he come from? What happened before?"

"He was in the compartment next to us," Blaise explained. "I saw him earlier when I was looking for you lot."

"We think he's the new Defense teacher," Pansy added. "It would make sense, with Lockhart gone. He looks pretty shabby, but he scared the dementor away awfully quickly."

"But what happened?" Harry asked, wiping some sweat off his face and climbing back up onto the seat. Everyone else looked at him in concern for a moment. "What?"

Hermione attempted to explain. "Well the dementor kind of stood there and looked around... I mean, I think it did... and you..."

"You fell off your chair and started twitching," Dudley explained, still looking rather scared. "Thought you were having a fit or something."

"Neville and Draco weren't all that much better. Shaking like mad, the both of them," Blaise said, putting a comforting arm around Draco's shoulders. He was still deathly pale, staring down at his feet, huddled in on himself.

"Did anyone else...pass out though?" Harry asked, feeling embarrassed at the negative response from Pansy and Blaise.

"I felt strange, though, like I'd never be cheerful again," Ron said uncomfortably, his sister nodding emphatically next to him.

Neville was sitting by the window, watching the scenery go by with his arms wrapped tightly around himself. Harry suddenly remembered a part Hermione's explanation of dementors in first year. He knew Neville had some pretty horrible memories he might have been relieving, and moved closer, putting a hand on Neville's shoulder. Neville gave him a small smile and relaxed slightly.

No one said very much until the train came to a stop at Hogsmede station, eating their chocolate quietly. It made Harry feel surprisingly better.

Harry missed the Sorting, having been summoned by Professor Snape when he reached the entrance hall.

"An owl was sent ahead by Professor Lupin saying you were taken ill on the train," Professor Snape explained, sneering Lupin's name. They were nearing the hospital wing, and Harry felt a twinge of embarrassment and no small amount of curiosity about what Snape had against the new professor.

"I'm fine, sir."

"Be that as it may, Mr. Potter, Madam Pomfrey would like to see you." It wasn't sneered this time, but Professor Snape's tone was final.

Harry sighed in resignation, face still a bit red. He wasn't about to argue with Snape.

* * *

"Where'd you guys have to go?" Blaise asked when he arrived back in the Great Hall, just in time to miss the Sorting.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked. "It was just me, Madam Pomfrey wanted to see me."

"Well where'd Hermione go then?" Pansy asked. "She's only just now got back, we thought you were somewhere together."

Harry looked over at the Gryffindor table to see Hermione being questioned as well. He shrugged. "Not a clue."

Up at the head table, Professor Dumbledore was explaining about dementors being posted on the grounds.

"They're going to be here as well?" Blaise exclaimed quietly. "We'll never get anything done with those wretches around."

Harry and Draco nodded vehemently. Draco looked to be feeling much better now and had been since they'd gotten off the train, although Pansy was still keeping a close eye on him and Harry as well now that he was back from the hospital wing.

Dumbledore announced the first of two new teachers for the year, a very tall, very wide man that Harry was pretty sure he'd seen around the grounds before now.

"The gamekeeper is going to be teaching Care of Magical Creatures?" Draco asked with a slight sneer, confirming Harry's suspicions. "This ought to be good."

"Told you he was the new Defense teacher," Pansy whispered as Lupin stood for his lukewarm applause.

Harry clapped for both of them. "Look at Snape," he said, nudging Blaise and Draco. Snape was glaring venomously down the table at Lupin.

"What do you think Lupin did to him?" Pansy wondered.

"He sounded like he already knew Lupin earlier," Harry said, explaining about the walk up to the infirmary.

"He's probably just angry because he didn't get the Defense job again," Draco suggested dismissively. "I mean, he's always wanted it."

The conversation lapsed after that and turned to other things, and soon the feast was over and they were heading back to their dorms.

"So Sirius Black is going to try to break into Hogwarts this year," Blaise observed when they'd reached the common room. "I wonder what he's after."

Harry looked around at his friends and realized they were watching him. "You think he's after me," he stated flatly. Blaise raised an eyebrow.

"It only makes sense, Harry," Draco explained, Pansy nodding in agreement. "Why else would they put  _dementors_  around the entrances if they didn't think he was coming here? It's fairly obvious."

"Did you see Dumbledore?" Blaise asked them. "He didn't look at all happy. And who else would Black be after?"

Harry frowned. It did make sense, they were right. Black was most likely after him.

"I'm going to bed," he said abruptly. "It's been a long day." His friends stared after him as he headed toward the dormitories.

"He's right." Harry could hear Draco following him. "This day has been far too long."


	3. The Classes

Harry's first day of classes was as thus: double Potions, followed by lunch, followed by Charms and ending with Care of Magical Creatures.

Potions went fairly well. Snape even complimented Draco and Harry's potion at one point, saying that it was 'well done'. Draco had been ecstatic, and the compliment had gotten Harry out of the bad mood he'd been in since the night before.

Lunch was spent discussing Quidditch. Harry had talked to Dudley after Potions class, and apparently he and Ron were still going to try out for the Gryffindor team. Harry then thought to ask Draco why he didn't try out for Slytherin.

"You're a good flyer, Draco," Harry said after taking a swallow of his juice. "In fact, you're amazing. Why don't you join me on the team?" He held up a triumphant fist with a grin. "Together we can destroy Gryffindor!"

Blaise laughed at him from across the table and Draco grinned reluctantly. "Harry," he explained mock-regretfully, "I would join, but I'd hate to make you lose your place on the team. I'm a Seeker, and I did teach you everything you know."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Of course you did."

Pansy snickered at Draco. "I remember what you taught him. 'It's in the hips'." Her imitation of Draco was perfect, even if the eyebrow waggling was a bit over exaggerated. "Terribly useful, that."

Draco's indignant look was spoiled by the spots of red on his face. "I did not say it like that!"

Blaise and Harry looked at him knowingly. He glared back in embarrassment. "I didn't!"

"Of course you didn't, dear," Pansy said with a wicked smirk. "Sausage, Blaise?"

Blaise burst into surprised laughter and declined, saying, "Let's go, we're going to be late for Charms."

* * *

Charms passed quickly, Harry, Pansy and Blaise having entertained themselves by embarrassing Draco horribly the entire time, repeating everything Flitwick said in a way that made it sound positively obscene.

"I need  _twelve inches_  by Friday," Pansy snickered as they left the classroom.

"Stop  _saying_  it like that!" Draco exclaimed, scandalized. "Anything will sound depraved if you say it like  _that_!"

By the time they reached the group of students surrounding the gamekeeper's hut, Draco's blush had subsided and Harry had gone back to trying to convince him to join the Quidditch team. He only paused in his attempt when the giant gamekeeper, Professor Hagrid as he had identified himself, appeared and explained to them how exactly they were supposed to open the monstrous books he'd had them buy. Harry hadn't touched his since he'd bought it in Diagon Alley, unwilling to take it out of the carefully tied bag that the shopkeeper had given him.

Hagrid led them around the edge of the forest to an enclosure filled with strange creatures he identified as hippogriffs, and Harry took a moment to take in the half horse, half bird before he started in on Draco again.

"One of the old Chasers finally graduated, Draco, you wouldn't be a reserve," he whispered as Hagrid went on about the creatures.

"...easily offended, hippogriffs are. Don't ever insult one, 'cause it might be the last thing yeh do..."

"Come on, you really should try out," Harry continued prodding. Draco looked near breaking at this point.

"Any volunteers?" Hagrid was asking hopefully, surveying the group. Dudley, who had been in front of the Slytherins next to Hermione and the other Gryffindors, backed up so far he bumped into Harry, who stopped talking at this point, worried that he might accidentally volunteer himself. Draco glanced at him, then the hippogriffs, then back. A slow smirk spread across his face.

"Fine," Draco finally agreed in a low whisper, to Harry's delight. "But! Only if you'll volunteer."

Harry looked at the hippogriffs, then at Draco, then at Professor Hagrid's hopeful face.

He shrugged. "Yeah, alright. But if I die, Blaise has to avenge me. And you still have to join the Quidditch team."

Draco's mouth dropped open and Blaise nodded solemnly. Harry stepped forward and raised his hand.

"I'll try it," he told Hagrid, who looked positively delighted.

"Good man!" Hagrid roared, causing Harry to falter slightly as he climbed the fence separating student from hippgriff. "Lets see how yeh get on with Buckbeak."

Hagrid separated one of the hippogriffs from the small herd and slipped off the leather collar. Draco, who had pushed his way to the front along with Pansy, Blaise and Hermione, watched in morbid fascination and some worry.

"Easy, now, Mister Potter," Hagrid said, much more quietly, as Harry approached Buckbeak slowly. "Keep eye contact, and try not ter blink...Hippogriffs don' trust yeh if yeh blink too much..."

Harry kept eye contact, although he nearly broke it when Hagrid told him to bow. Expose the back of his neck to those talons? Was he serious? Harry took a deep breath and, maintaining eye contact and refusing to blink, gave a short bow.

The hippogriff considered him for several tense moments before sinking, to Harry's surprise, into an unmistakable bow.

* * *

"Fine, I'll try out for the bloody Quidditch team," Draco agreed, although the expression on his face was far too amused for Harry's liking. He was taking a break, and Draco had approached him at the fence after having abandoned Blaise and Pansy's group.

"After what just happened to me? Even if you don't make the team you're going to be the bloody water boy," Harry said, still slightly disgruntled from his ride on Buckbeak. It had been fun, true, but having the giant professor suddenly seize him and toss him on a hippogriff's back before setting the thing flying without so much as a warning was not Harry's idea of a stellar afternoon.

"It was pretty spectacular, wasn't it?" Draco agreed in good humor. "The look on your face when he picked you up!"

Harry's expression remained mildly surly as Draco laughed.

"Why're you over here, anyhow?" Harry finally asked, having had enough of that. Draco sobered a bit.

"They wouldn't let me stay, said I was going to get myself killed or some such nonsense," Draco said, mildly irritated. "Prats, the both of them, Merlin only knows what their problem is. You rode one of those great ugly things, what could be so hard about getting it to bow to you?"

"Maybe you should stay away from them," Harry said, grimly imagining hippogriff rage and the entire paddock soaked in Draco's pure, aristocratic blood.

Draco huffed and leaned against the fence next to Harry.

"Mister Potter, could yeh give me a hand with this one?"

Harry looked over to where the professor was standing with a smaller hippogriff and waving Harry over. Harry glanced back at Draco, who raised his hands and backed away.

"I don't want to ride any hippogriffs today, thanks," he said, smirking. Harry rolled his eyes and walked over to Hagrid.

Hagrid explained that he wanted Harry to help brush the horse part of the creature, and spent a few minutes showing him how before stepping back and surveying him with a crinkly smile.

"Beau'iful, isn' he? Yeh're good with animals. Jus' like your father."

Harry nearly dropped the brush he was using.

"You knew my father?" he asked incredulously, having forgotten completely about the hippogriff.

"I've bin at Hogwarts fer years an' years," Hagrid explained, taking the brush from Harry and continuing where Harry had left off. "I used ter catch yer father an' his friends sneakin' off ter the forest almos' every other night. Worse 'n those Weasley twins, yer father an' his friends."

Harry nodded, eyes wide. He had pictures of his mother, had his father's cloak, had even seen them in the Mirror of Erised first year, but never had he met someone who had actually  _known_  them and was willing to talk about them.

"What was my father like?" Harry asked, throwing caution to the winds in his desire for this knowledge. "What were his friends like? Why were they worse than the Weasley twins? Did you know my mother as well? Do you know-"

Hagrid raised a hand to interrupt him. "Why don't yeh come down fer tea this evenin'?"

Harry barely hesitated. "Alright. Can I bring a friend or two?"

"Yer welcome ter bring anyone yeh like, Harry," Hagrid said jovially. "Now get goin', class is dismissed."

"Thank you very much, Professor," Harry said as he turned to leave, nearly tripping over himself.

Pansy, Blaise and Draco were waiting by the fence. Everyone else had already gone. "What could you possibly have spent so long talking to the gamekeeper about?" Pansy asked as they walked away.

Harry grinned at her. "I'm going to have tea at his house tonight, he knew my parents and he's going to tell me about them, want to come?"

His three friends blinked at him as they digested this information.

"He knew your parents?" Blaise asked, looking surprised at Harry's excited nod. "I suppose it makes sense that he's worked here since they went to school here."

"You're going to have tea with him?" Draco asked, looking distasteful.

Pansy gave Harry's excited expression a glance and raised her eyebrow at the other two. "Yes we are, aren't we, Blaise?"

Blaise nodded. "We are." The two of them stared pointedly at Draco, who raised an eyebrow at them. "Aren't we, Draco?"

Draco rolled his eyes elaborately at the castle as they approached. "I suppose," he said. "But if I die from some horrible common disease, Blaise has to avenge my death instead of Harry's."

Blaise nodded agreeably, although he appeared mildly exasperated. "Why do you all think I'd be good for avenging your deaths? Harry alone has made me promise to avenge him at least five times since first year, and I haven't done a thing to encourage it."

"Perhaps he heard those rumors about your mother and assumed she's taught you a thing or two," Pansy said innocently.

Harry had been paying very little attention, having been coming up with a list of questions for Hagrid, but now he cut in. "I don't really know much about your mother aside from what Draco's told me," he shrugged. "I just figured you'd be the best choice, as Pansy would probably have been the one to kill me in the first place, and of course she would probably frame Draco, so you're the only one who would have the time and ability to give proper attention to the avenging process."

"This is true," Blaise said with a contemplative frown.

"We've taught you so well, Harry," Pansy said, smiling mistily. Draco sulked a bit as they finally made their way inside and to the Great Hall for food.

"By the way, Harry, what did Draco tell you about my mother?" Blaise asked curiously.

"Shepard's Pie, Harry!" Draco said loudly, pulling Harry over to the Slytherin table. "It's your favourite, right? Why don't you have some?"

"I-"

"Wow, the house elves have outdone themselves today!" Draco said with a big smile as Blaise eyed him in suspicion. "Blaise, why don't you have some? How about those Tornadoes this year, eh?"

* * *

"I'm going to find out what you said about my mother," Blaise said in an undertone as they sat at the large wooden table in Hagrid's hut later that night. "I can get it out of Harry in under five minutes, you know I can."

Draco winced, in part at Blaise's statement, and in part because he'd just nearly cracked a tooth on one of the rock cakes the gamekeeper had given them. Harry spared them a glance and took a moment from his interrogation of Hagrid to raise an eyebrow at Blaise.

"Five minutes?" he asked, shaking his head. "I'm offended. You'd only get that information out of me if I wanted you to know!"

He turned back to Hagrid, who was eying him with an uncertain sort of amusement.

"It's strange, you bein' a Slytherin," Hagrid said, "Yer parents were both Gryffindor ter the bone. Yer father was always bullyin' the Slytherins."

Harry frowned at this, as did his three friends sitting around him. "Do you think my father would have-"

Hagrid seemed to realized what he'd said and backtracked quickly. "He woulda bin fine with you bein' a Slytherin, Harry, hones'. One o' his bes' friends was from a family full of 'em."

"Really?" Harry asked curiously. "Who was that?"

Hagrid faltered at this, and Harry realised that he must be talking about Sirius Black.

This didn't really reassure Harry.

"Yer father had a load o' friends," Hagrid said evasively. "As a matter o' fact, Lupin was good friends with 'im."

"The new professor?" Pansy asked, surprised, and Hagrid nodded, beaming.

"Right, yer new Defense professor," he said. "An' he knows much more abou' yer father than I could ever tell yeh, Harry."

Harry's head was now spinning at the thought of having already met one of his father's friends and not even having known it. He had to talk to the professor soon, then, and that was all there was to it.

Blaise had pulled his schedule out of his bag and was examining it. "We've got him day after tomorrow," he announced.

"Bugger," Harry said unhappily. He glanced up at Hagrid sheepishly. "I mean, um, golly..."

Hagrid laughed, a big booming sort of laugh that caused all four of them to jump in their seats. "I'll not take points off yeh," he said, his black eyes crinkling in a friendly way. "Yer a good lad. Jus' come round fer tea every once in a while, tha's all. All o' yeh are welcome anytime."

All four of them thanked him, and stayed a bit longer as Harry asked several more questions. Finally Pansy yawned politely and Blaise took the hint.

"Harry, it's getting pretty late," he said. "We've got a load of homework."

Hagrid nodded. "Firs' day o' classes an' all," he agreed. "You lot had better get back up ter the castle before it gets too dark. Come an' visit any time."

Harry looked reluctant, but allowed himself to be led out of the hut and across the lawns to the castle.

"So do you think he took the name literally and actually put rocks in the rock cakes?" Draco asked eventually, rubbing his jaw.

Harry frowned. "I didn't actually try mine."

"That was probably for the best," Draco informed him.

"I didn't like the idea that my father used to bully our house," Harry said, his forehead furrowing slightly. "And the friend with family in Slytherin had to have been Sirius Black."

"His family has all been in Slytherin for a while now," Draco agreed.

"How do you know that?" Harry asked. Draco blinked.

"Well, you know, my family makes a point to know these things," Draco explained in a matter-of-fact tone. Pansy frowned at him, but he paid her no attention. "They were a very prominent family, you know?"

"Alright," Harry said agreeably, letting it drop. "Listen, I'm going to see if Hermione's in the library, any of you want to come?"

Draco shrugged. "Sure," he said. Pansy and Blaise declined, and they separated in the Entrance Hall as Draco and Harry climbed the stairs to the library.

Sure enough, Hermione was there with Neville and Dudley. Ron never came to study groups on the first day, he claimed it was indecent. Harry sat down next to Hermione, who was looking through what looked like an old yearbook. There were a few piled up next to her as well.

"Hi Harry," Dudley said. "Did Hagrid have any good stories about your parents?"

Harry shrugged. "He didn't really know them that well," he said.

"That sucks," Dudley said sympathetically. Harry nodded.

"He told me that Professor Lupin did, though, so I'm going to talk to him after class on Wednesday," Harry continued.

Hermione finally looked up from her book at that. "I thought he might have been friends with them," she said, sorting through the stack of books. "I was looking through the yearbooks anyway, and when you mentioned you were going to talk to Hagrid about your parents, I thought I'd find their year."

She handed him the proper book triumphantly, and Harry opened it to the marked page. "I didn't even know there were yearbooks," he said, scanning the page. "Thanks Hermione."

He found his mother and father in the Gryffindor section, smiling up at him among their friends. Draco sat down next to him and looked over his shoulder.

"Wow, your father does look a lot like you," he commented. Harry smiled. Aside from his eyes, in that they were hazel and without glasses, James Potter did look very much like a seventeen year old version of Harry.

Next to Harry, Hermione was now mumbling to herself and flipping through several yearbooks. Harry ignored her as he looked for names he'd read before. His mother looked like she had in the pictures Harry had of her, only in her school uniform instead of muggle clothes. Peter Pettigrew was there as well, a small, mousey boy with a pointy nose, and Remus Lupin didn't look very different than he had on the train. Perhaps dressed better and with less grey hair, but still generally tired and calm. Sirius Black was actually in Gryffindor with the rest of them, and Harry stared at him for a moment. He had a careless smirk, and was very handsome. Harry went back to examining his parent's pictures, and 'accidentally' covered Black's picture with his thumb, causing him to flail a bit as he tried to escape.

"He's the only one here," Hermione said finally. "He must have been half and half."

"Who are you talking about?" Harry left his thumb on Black's face to mark his page and glanced over at her curiously.

"Tom Riddle," she said. "He's the only Riddle I can find, and that means that either he's a muggleborn or his mother is a witch, and with a name like Marvolo, it was probably the latter. It's likely he was named after someone in his mother's family, but I can't find anything about him aside from his Hogwarts records. He did win an award for services to the school, and he was Head Boy, but that's about it. He graduated back in the forties. I don't know where Dudley can have gotten his diary from, or why it made him do what it did."

Harry shrugged and looked at the yearbook she was looking at. Riddle had been a Slytherin. His gaze was icy and condescending, and made Harry shiver, even if it was just a picture. He didn't like Tom Riddle at all.

"Well he looks a bit like you too, Harry," Draco said, jokingly. "Maybe yearbook pictures just make everyone look alike."

Harry glared at Draco, who promptly shut up and looked over to see what Neville was doing.

"Considering what his diary did, I'd check the records for Azkaban," Harry suggested darkly, glancing down at the picture again. Hermione shrugged.

"I might as well," she said. "It's not as though I've got anywhere else to look. Do you think students even have access to those?"

Harry shook his head. "Not a clue, but it couldn't hurt to ask."


	4. The Conversations

The morning of their first Defense lesson with Professor Lupin found Harry fidgeting impatiently in Ancient Runes, which was the class right before Defense. He didn't mind Ancient Runes, they had already had the class once before, and since he sat with Hermione and studied with her afterward, he thought he would do fairly well. Today though, he just wanted Professor Babbling to tell them class was over so that he could have lunch before he finally got to go to Defense and talk to Lupin.

After several dirty looks from Hermione, as he kept glancing at his watch and was obviously paying very little attention, class was finally dismissed. They both stood up, and Harry followed Hermione out of the room as she tucked her notes away.

"Harry," she said, still digging through her bag, "Hold these for me, would you?"

She then proceeded to hand him several thick tomes. Harry examined them for a moment. "Do you even have all these classes today?" he asked, shifting the Charms text in order to look at a thick book titled ' _Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles'_.

Hermione appeared not to have heard his question. "Here it is," she said, pulling out a few pieces of parchment. These she handed to Harry as well, taking back the books and stuffing them into her bag again. Harry glanced down at the parchment. They appeared to be a couple of copies of the Daily Prophet and some parchment with Hermione's writing all over them. Hermione took them back and they resumed walking down to the Great Hall for lunch.

"What're those for?" Harry asked. Hermione handed him the newspaper, and he looked at it curiously.

Hermione glanced over at the paper. "Oh, that's today's paper, sorry. I meant to give you this one." She handed Harry the other, more yellowed newspaper. "Although you should probably read that as well, there's an article in there about Sirius Black, apparently he's been sighted nearby."

"He has?" Harry asked, flipping it over to look at the front page. Sure enough, there was the familiar picture and a heading proclaiming that a muggle had spotted Black in a town that wasn't very far at all from Hogwarts. Harry frowned as he read through it. It seemed like maybe the dementors were going to have some use, after all.

"Anyway," Hermione continued, "I asked about checking Azkaban's records, like you suggested, but Madam Pince told me it'd be much easier just to look into back issues of the Prophet." She gestured to the yellowed newspaper Harry was holding, and he put aside his worries about Black for the moment to look at it instead. "Apparently they always have an article when someone gets sent to Azkaban, no matter who."

"So you found Riddle?" Harry asked, pursuing the small article she pointed out to him. Harry noted that the paper itself was from the twenties. "But you said he went to school here in the forties. This would have been from before he was born."

"I know," Hermione said. "I didn't actually find his name anywhere. I did find someone by the name of Marvolo Gaunt though."

By this time, they had reached the Great Hall. Harry pulled Hermione over to the Slytherin table, intent on continuing this conversation.

"So how do you think they're related, if they even are?" Harry asked, sitting down next to Draco, who nodded a greeting as he ate his sandwich. Harry flapped the parchments at him in greeting before straightening them out and reading the article through. Morfin and Marvolo Gaunt had been arrested for hexing a muggle and attacking Ministry personnel respectively, and Marvolo Gaunt had been sentenced to six months in Azkaban.

"I'm not sure, but here's the really interesting bit," Hermione said, pulling the parchment with her handwriting on it out of the stack in his hands and putting it on the table. "I copied this out of a genealogy from the library."

Harry read through it. She had basically just copied down names. The one at the very bottom made his eyebrows shoot up.

"Salazar Slytherin?" he asked, intrigued. "So they're the descendants of Salazar Slytherin, what does that tell us?"

Draco looked up, suddenly interested. "Who're the descendants of Slytherin?" he asked, looking down at the parchment and skimming down the list. "But what about the Dark Lord?"

Hermione beamed at him.

"What about the Dark Lord?" Harry asked, nonplussed.

"Exactly," Hermione said, looking rather excited now. "Most of his followers believed that he was the last descendant of Salazar Slytherin."

Draco frowned. "Are you saying he wasn't, then?"

"No, no!" Hermione shook her head. "I'm saying I think he was. Marvolo had a son named Morfin, but he also had a daughter named Merope, look."

Harry glanced down at the list of names and saw that there was in fact a Merope Gaunt on the list.

"So Merope was Riddle's mother?" Harry asked.

"She must have married a muggle," Hermione said, nodding. "Which is why I can't find any wizards by the name of Riddle. And Tom Riddle grew up to be Voldemort."

"But that's impossible," Draco said, frowning at the use of the name. "The Dark Lord is a pureblood, this can't be right."

"Who says he's a pureblood?" Hermione asked challengingly. "If he was a pureblood, he would have no reason to go by a fake name. But if he was named after his muggle father…"

"But you've got no proof," Draco argued. He sounded annoyed. "This is all wild guesswork. You have no idea if this Riddle character is actually Merope Gaunt's child."

"You agree that she's likely Voldemort's mother, though?" Hermione asked. Draco gave her a look for using the name again, but agreed.

"Then I'll keep looking and find some more proof," Hermione said, taking the parchments back and packing them into her bag. "But I really think I'm right about this."

Harry and Draco watched her as she walked back to the Gryffindor table and sat down next to Dudley.

"You realize she usually is right about most things, right Draco?" Harry asked.

Draco didn't look at all happy, although he did nod. Harry left him to himself and ate a quick lunch, having moved on from Riddle and now contemplating much more important thoughts about what he would say to Professor Lupin. He decided to just keep his list of questions in mind and otherwise wing it.

Pansy and Blaise arrived after a bit, and Harry sat impatiently through their conversation about the Sirius Black sighting. It wasn't that he wasn't worried, because he was. He was just preoccupied by his upcoming conversation with Lupin, and that tended to take precedence over a mere sighting. Harry responded when he was spoken to, and otherwise kept his eye on the time until finally, his watch showed that class was starting soon.

"Let's go, time for Defense," Harry said, standing up. Draco checked his watch.

"Harry, there's still ten minutes left," he said. Harry bit his lip and gave them all his best doe eyes.

Pansy suppressed a smile and stood up, pulling Blaise with her. Blaise shook his head at Harry, although he looked as amused as Pansy did. Draco sighed and followed as well. Harry beamed.

"Don't think you can do that and get your way all the time," Blaise told him as they left the Hall. "We'll all become immune eventually."

They reached the classroom quickly, but unfortunately it was still empty. Harry picked out a seat in the second row where he would have a good view of the teacher's desk, and sat down. His friends sat around him, looking amused.

Professor Lupin didn't arrive until moments before class was due to start. He looked better than he had on the train; his robes were nicer and he looked much less exhausted. He was levitating a large trunk in front of him. Harry remembered Neville's story about the boggart they had fought for their first class, and eyed the trunk with interest.

It turned out that they were, in fact, going to be fighting the boggart. Professor Lupin explained what to do and asked a few questions before having them line up facing the trunk. Harry followed Pansy and Draco and they ended up toward the end of the line as Professor Lupin gave them a few last minute instructions.

"…think of the thing that scares you the most, and imagine how you might force it to appear comical."

Harry furrowed his brow. What scared him the most? He thought of several things, but nothing really  _terrified_  him. Sirius Black? Voldemort? They were distant fears, similar to the idea of falling off of his broom and breaking his neck. He knew it was a distinct possibility, and he knew that one day, something horrible might happen, but at the moment, he was safe. So what scared him the most?

"Everyone ready?" Professor Lupin asked.

 _No,_  Harry thought, panicking slightly.  _I don't even know what I'm going up against yet._

It was at this point that Professor Lupin opened the trunk and the practical aspect of the lesson began.

Harry paid close attention to other people's boggarts, hoping for inspiration. The class learned quickly, each observing their respective fear before casting the spell and moving to the side for the next student. There were spiders, vampires, even a rabid dog. The boggart even managed Theo's fear of heights, causing the small area of floor that he was standing on to appear to rush high into the air. Theo closed his eyes for a moment before shouting the spell and causing the boggart to produce fluffy pink clouds that hid the illusion and allowed him to step to the side.

Millicent was next, and her boggart turned into a thin black cloak that rippled menacingly at the class. Pansy said it was a lethifold, but the closest thing Harry had ever seen to such a creature was the dementor on the train. A chill went through him as he pictured the cloaked figure in the doorway, remembered the rotting hand that had protruded from it's cloak, how helpless he had been. In front of him, Millicent considered the lethifold for a moment before raising her wand and casting in a strong voice. The lethifold was attacked by scissors and needles and in moments all that remained was a black pair of pants, which caused most of the class to snicker with laughter. Professor Lupin nodded approvingly, and Harry realized with a slight shudder that he knew what his boggart was going to be. The question now, was how he was going to make it funny…

Pansy and Blaise were next, and Harry was right behind them. He raised his eyebrows when Pansy's boggart turned into a large, mismatched creature with a lion's head and a dragon's tail. Draco whispered that it was a chimaera, and they watched with interest as Pansy shouted the spell and it turned into a goat with scales and a lion's tail.

It was Blaise's turn, and as he was right in front of Harry in line, Harry began casting about desperately in his mind for a way to make a dementor funny. As Blaise stepped forward the goat turned to face him, stumbled, and with several cracks, shrank first into a snake, then a large, angry looking bird, before finally ending up as an overgrown ferret. Harry took a moment to wonder what was so scary about ferrets, and resolved to ask later.

"It's confused," Professor Lupin called. "Finish it, Mr. Zabini."

Harry blinked. Problem solved, apparently. He wouldn't have to face the boggart, although now that he knew he wasn't going to, he kind of wanted the chance.

Blaise raised his wand as the ferret rose up on it's hind legs and began insulting him. He flashed his teeth at the creature as it jabbered on and shouted, " _Riddikulus!_ "

The boggart shrank until it was the size of a mouse, and the smaller it got, the squeakier it's voice became until it was just a high pitched squealing. Blaise grinned at it as the class laughed, and watched it explode a second later into a thousand wisps of smoke.

Professor Lupin stepped forward with a smile as the class clapped. "Excellent," he said warmly. "Five points to Slytherin for everyone who tackled the boggart, five points more to Tracy for answering my questions at the beginning of class. An excellent lesson, everyone. Homework, read the chapter on boggarts and summarize it for me, to be turned in on Monday. That will be all."

Harry still felt slightly disappointed that he hadn't been able to have a go at the boggart, but his thoughts quickly returned to speaking with Professor Lupin. Harry waved his friends on as the rest of the Slytherins trailed out of the classroom, still discussing all the different shapes the boggart had taken. Harry waited quietly as Professor Lupin gathered his things. After a moment, Lupin looked up and asked, "Yes, Harry?"

"Er," Harry said uncertainly. "I just wanted to ask you a few questions, sir."

Professor Lupin set his things down on the desk and gave Harry his full attention.

Harry shifted in place. "About, er…about my parents," he said quickly. "Hagrid told me you were friends with my father and I just thought that maybe you wouldn't mind telling me a bit about him, if you don't mind, and-"

"Harry," Professor Lupin interrupted. "I would be delighted to talk with you about your father. How about we go into my office instead?"

Harry nodded, and Professor Lupin gathered his things back up and led him through a door in the corner of the room. There were a lot of books and parchments piled on the shelves and desk. Professor Lupin moved a pile of books off of a chair in front of his desk and offered it to Harry apologetically.

"Still putting everything away," he explained, "Although the teapot is all sorted out, if you'd like some."

Harry nodded, and Lupin put the teapot up to boil and sat down across from Harry at the desk.

"Now, do you have any specific questions, Harry?"

Harry did. He thought for a moment about which to ask first.

"Was my father a good person?" he finally asked, knowing that he shouldn't have been so blunt but not really caring. This was something he'd been wondering since Hagrid had mentioned that his father had bullied Harry's house.

Lupin appeared to be mildly surprised at the question. His eyes trailed down to the Slytherin crest on Harry's robes and lingered there a moment before answering.

"Don't let Professor Snape colour your opinion of your father too much, Harry," Lupin said slowly. Harry blinked.

"What do you mean, sir?"

Lupin frowned. "I would have thought Professor Snape would have mentioned this to you?" Harry shook his head. Snape had never mentioned anything about Harry's parents. He hardly spoke to Harry in the first place, although he had become much less standoffish since the basilisk incident.

Professor Lupin raised his eyebrows. "I am impressed at his restraint. Your father and Professor Snape were rather virulent enemies. James resented his ties to the Dark Arts, and especially to Lily as they grew older, and I believe Severus was always rather jealous of your father, bullying notwithstanding."

Harry considered this new information.

"Professor Snape was close with my mother?" Professor Lupin nodded. Harry marveled at the number of people so far at Hogwarts that had known his parents and never let on.

"Lily told me once that they had known each other since before Hogwarts," Lupin said. There was a faraway expression on his face, as though he was trying to remember. "They lived near each other and became friends somehow, I'm not certain of the details. I do know, though, that they virtually stopped talking to each other after an incident with your father in fifth year, when Severus said some things he probably shouldn't have. To be fair, your father had just done something horribly embarrassing to him in front of a crowd of people. He can't have been in the best of moods."

Harry frowned. If he'd had a falling out with Lily and had always hated James, Harry didn't blame Snape for never mentioning them. "So when Hagrid said that my father bullied Slytherins, did he just mean Snape?"

"Professor Snape, Harry," Lupin chided gently. "And yes, for the most part, James exclusively focused on Professor Snape, although I will admit he was an equal opportunity prankster in his day. The whole group of us were. We called ourselves the Marauders."

Harry smiled at this bit of information, before a thought occurred to him. "So was Sirius Black a Marauder too?"

Professor Lupin started slightly at the name, as though jolted out of his reminiscing.

"Yes, he was," Lupin said shortly, and Harry knew he had put his foot in his mouth by bringing up what was obviously a sore topic. "It was your father, myself, Peter, and Black."

Harry nodded and decided to leave well enough alone. "Thank you, Professor," he said, setting his now empty teacup down on the desk and standing. Professor Lupin stood as well. "I've got to be going," Harry lied. "Would you mind if I came back sometime? It was nice hearing about my parents. No one has really told me much about them."

Professor Lupin's stony expression softened slightly. "Of course, Harry," he said. "My door is always open."

"Thank you, sir," Harry said. "Oh, and class was really brilliant today. It was probably the best Defense lesson I've ever had, and I didn't even get to have a go at the boggart. Maybe next time?"

Professor Lupin looked at him oddly for this statement, but nodded. "Next time," he agreed, and Harry left.

* * *

"So what did Lupin tell you?" Blaise asked later, at dinner.

"Nuh uh," Harry said, grinning at him. "First of all, you're going to tell me why your boggart is a big talking ferret."

Blaise colored as Pansy and Draco laughed at Harry's description.

"It wasn't a big talking ferret, you daft git," he said, still somewhat red. "It was a jarvey. There was one that used to sneak onto the grounds when I was little, and my nursery was on the ground floor. It would climb in the window and scream at me until a house elf heard us and shooed it away."

Pansy sniggered as Blaise told his story, and he glared at her.

"You would hate them too if after you finally convinced your mother to move you to the first floor, the jarvey found a way to climb the terrace and hid in your wardrobe!"

Draco outright laughed at this, and Harry wasn't far behind. At the mutinous look on Blaise's face, Harry changed the subject slightly.

"So Pansy, what was yours then?" he asked.

Pansy sniffed. "It was a chimaera, I'll have you know, and I was nearly attacked by one at my uncle's estate when I was eight."

"So," Draco asked again. "What did Lupin say?"

"Apparently Snape was friends with my mum when they were little," Harry said. Astonished expressions appeared all around him and Harry smiled in satisfaction.

"Explain," Draco ordered, and Harry did.

* * *

Late September brought Quidditch tryouts. True to Draco's word, he tried out for and obtained the empty Chaser position. Harry's Gryffindor friends had tryouts as well, and while Dudley managed the reserve Beater position he'd been after along with another boy named Sloper, Ron had been told, as he grumpily informed them at the study group later, that he apparently needed more practice. The thing that really seemed to irk him was that his younger sister, Ginny, had secured the Seeker position.

"Is she actually any good?" Harry asked hopefully. "Because all these crap Seekers you lot have been pulling out in the past couple years have been rather pathetic. I've been hoping for some competition."

"She's better than McLaggen, at least," Dudley informed him, as Ron was still too disgruntled to talk Quidditch. "Better than Dean too. He's in our dorm, he says he'd rather play Chaser anyway, so he's on the reserve team with me."

Now that the Quidditch season had started, Harry was kept incredibly busy, between work and practice and classes and tea with Lupin (although, admittedly, he appeared to be doing better than Hermione, who was positively snappish sometimes). Harry had decided not to approach Snape about his parents, as it was obviously going to be a sore point and he wanted to gain favour with Snape, not lose it. He therefore stuck to visiting his Defense professor, and infrequently, Hagrid. Lupin had asked him during a recent teatime what he thought his boggart was, and had seemed surprised and strangely pleased at Harry's response, saying something about how Harry feared fear, and how wise that was. Harry did not correct him, although he privately thought that he feared the helplessness and the uncertainty that the dementor caused more than the actual fear itself.

Time flew by, and soon enough, Halloween and the first Hogsmede visit of the year arrived. Everyone Harry knew had been looking forward to the visit for ages, and Harry convinced his Gryffindor friends and his Slytherin friends to go in one big group, which he considered quite an accomplishment. Although they all got along fairly decently, especially after the events at the end of last year, they didn't interact socially very often. Despite this, Harry had even convinced Ron to come along with them with only a token complaint.

Hogsmede was fantastic, in Harry's opinion. They went to just about every shop on the main street. Hermione had had to drag both Ron and Dudley away from Honeydukes, where Harry saw a greedy look in Dudley's eyes that he hadn't witnessed since before Hogwarts. Zonkos was fantastic too, and Harry thought of his prankster father and his friends as he stocked up on a few more biting teacups than usual.

They even went to visit the Shrieking Shack, and Harry listened contentedly as Draco and Blaise debated which Gryffindor they could convince to go up and knock on the door. Hermione inadvertently created a suitable cover for this conversation by telling them every single thing she had ever read about the 'most haunted house in Britain', although their attempts were eventually thwarted by a suggestion from Neville that they go to the Three Broomsticks for a drink.

At the end of the day, they made their noisy way back to the school and parted ways in the Great Hall for the Halloween feast. Stuffed and drowsy, Harry and his Slytherins eventually trapised up to the dorms, where they fell asleep quickly and stayed that way until a strained looking prefect woke them in the early hours of the morning with bad news.

"I'm to take you all down to the Great Hall," he said as they all stumbled out of their beds, confused. "I'm not certain yet what's going on, but it's urgent. Someone get those two lumps out of bed."

Draco yawned and stumbled over to Greg and Vince, prodding them roughly and eventually rousing them. They all wandered down to the common room where the rest of the house waited, pyjama clad and looking as confused as Harry's dorm was. When everyone finally arrived, they left and followed the prefects down to the Great Hall, where most of the rest of the school had already arrived, loitering in confusion.

"The Gryffindors seem to know what's going on," Pansy noted. "Come on Harry, lets go ask them."

Harry and Pansy split off from the Slytherins and walked toward the gaggle of students surrounding the Gryffindor group. They passed Professor Dumbledore holding a conference with several professors and the Head Girl and Boy. Harry watched as Dumbledore turned to leave, paused, and waved his hand, summoning several hundred purple sleeping bags in a large pile in the middle of the Hall.

"What's happened?" Pansy asked Hermione as they approached. Hermione looked rather pale and tired, but she waved a worried hand toward Ron and answered.

"Sirius Black attacked Gryffindor Tower," she said. "Ron said Black had a knife and that he ripped his bed curtains."

"He attacked Ron?" Pansy asked incredulously, as Harry looked over at Ron, equally shocked. "What in Merlin's name does Sirius Black want with a  _Weasley_?"

Hermione just shook her head, just as baffled as Harry and Pansy were.


	5. The Insomnia

"And I woke up, 'cause there was a breeze, right? And he's standing there over my bed, staring down at me with this knife, and I yelled, and he just  _scampered._ "

When Ron finished his story, Harry frowned. He wasn't the only one.

"How could he have gotten in, though?" Blaise asked. After Hermione had told them what she knew, she had gathered Neville and Dudley and Harry had found Draco and Blaise, and they all grabbed a sleeping bag and formed a circle in a corner of the hall to listen to Ron's story. Harry thought Blaise had a good point, but there was a more pressing concern at hand.

"Why would he attack you, Ron?" he asked, and Ron shrugged his shoulders, clearly mystified.

"I haven't a bloody clue," Ron said. "Why did he run away? He could have finished me and moved on to the next bed."

"The lights are going out now," Ron's brother yelled importantly. "No more talking! Everyone in their sleeping bags!"

"How could he have gotten in?" Neville asked as he settled into his sleeping bag next to Dudley. "I mean, he couldn't have just walked through the front doors. Could he have apparated?"

"You can't apparate inside Hogwarts," Harry whispered at roughly the same time as Hermione, whose head was near his. Next to him, Draco snorted at them and shook his head.

"You would think he would have attacked Slytherin, though," Pansy mused softly, before Draco could comment. "I mean, even the teachers must think Black is after Harry, they've all been keeping such a close eye on you lately, have you noticed?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "They did seem to be wandering the halls a lot more than usual this year," he said dryly. "Yes, Pansy, I'd noticed."

"So if he's after Harry, why attack Ron?" Dudley asked worriedly. "You don't think he was aiming for me because I'm his cousin, and just got the wrong bed, do you?"

There was a short silence as they all contemplated this, prolonged as Percy prowled past, hissing at people to be quiet and go to sleep.

"I don't think so, Dudley," Hermione said comfortingly. "Although that does raise a few issues. I mean, he's only just escaped from Azkaban. How much does he know? Does he even know you have a cousin, Harry?"

Harry shook his head slowly. He had no clue what Black knew.

"Even if he did know I had a cousin, Dudley's a muggleborn," Harry said. "He couldn't have known he'd be at Hogwarts with me, let alone that he's a Gryffindor, unless he heard it somewhere, and how could he have learned that?"

"Well if you're going to say that, how could he know you're in Slytherin?" Blaise wondered.

"Your parents were in Gryffindor, weren't they? Maybe he just assumed you would be too?"

"Maybe Azkaban's addled his brains," Ron suggested.

"No, I think he has some idea of what he's doing," Hermione disagreed. "How could he have broken out of Azkaban, let alone broken into Hogwarts,  _and_  Gryffindor Tower, if he's completely insane?"

"She's right," Blaise said, and Harry could tell he was smirking, even though he couldn't see him. "Even I can't break into Gryffindor, and I'm certainly not mad."

"He used to be a Gryffindor, though," Harry pointed out, ignoring Draco, who was explaining to Blaise that there was nothing exciting about Gryffindor that Draco couldn't replicate with a lumos in the eye. "Maybe he just went there because he knew where it was. And maybe he knows about a secret entrance or something?"

They lay silently again and contemplated everything. There were so many questions that needed answering. Harry hated the uncertainty of it. If Black was after him, why not attack Slytherin? And if he had assumed Harry was a Gryffindor, there were still questions. What if Black figured out which House Harry was in? He'd broken in once, he could get in again.

"Harry," someone hissed nearby. Harry looked past Dudley on his right to see Anthony sliding along the ground toward them, still in his sleeping bag. He looked a bit like a purple slug. A blond girl followed him closely, creeping along in the same manner. They both paused when the Head Girl glanced their way, then continued.

"Hi, Anthony," Harry called softly, and he could see Draco shaking his head in bemusement out of the corner of his eye. Dudley scooted his sleeping bag out of the way, making room for the two new arrivals and greatly increasing the diameter of their little circle.

"Hello, Harry," Anthony whispered as he settled in next to him. "I meant to talk to you earlier about this, but Luna found me."

Harry glanced past Anthony to see the girl gazing at him with protuberant eyes.

"She was Petrified last year; I'm tutoring her so she doesn't fall behind too badly," he explained with a shrug.

"Hello, Harry Potter," she whispered. "It's very lovely to meet you."

Harry blinked. "Nice to meet you too, Luna."

She smiled vaguely and her head disappeared past Anthony's sleeping bag.

"Hello." He could just barely hear her still. "Your name is Dudley Dursley."

"Er, yeah," Dudley said, nonplussed. "Yours is Luna?"

"Luna Lovegood, actually, but thank you. You were closer than most."

"So what did you want to tell me?" Harry asked, turning his attention away from the new girl and leaning closer to Anthony so that they could talk quietly.

"Well, I had wanted to talk to you about the snakes."

"Oh?"

"Yes." He fell silent as a ghost floated past.

"Goodnight, Friar," Luna said.

"Goodnight, Luna, dear," the ghost said, and floated on its way. Neville snored.

Anthony continued. "I was thinking, we should have them meet each other. Mine and yours, you know? I brought Douglas with me this year so that I'd be able to practice without you at school as well, and -"

"You named your snake Douglas?" Harry interrupted, amused.

"We had a lengthy discussion, and concluded that Douglas was best," Anthony informed him. "He was quite adamant about it, though he also quite liked Liegia, no matter that I said it was a girl's name. He spent weeks deciding between the two. But that's beside the point. What do you say?"

"Well sure," Harry said. "I don't see why not. They'll be aware of each other by now, anyway, if you've had him here since September."

"Yes," Anthony agreed thoughtfully. "And I thought we should test that, how far away they can get before they lose awareness of each other. It could be useful."

Harry agreed. "The basilisk could hear me from at least several floors down, remember? They seem to have pretty strong senses."

Anthony nodded thoughtfully. "I thought it could be useful for you. I mean, they can sense more than just snakes from a distance."

It seemed that the rest of the group had been shamelessly eavesdropping on this conversation, because Draco cut in at this point and said, "Do you think they'd be able to keep an eye out for Black then, in case he tried to sneak up on Harry?"

"Figuratively speaking, yes," Anthony responded. "I mean, clearly he has other motives at the moment, aside from attacking Harry, but it couldn't hurt to have a lookout for him that has a more reliable method of detection than mere sight and sound."

"But they need to have some idea of what Black smells like in the first place," Harry said, seeing a flaw in the logic of Anthony's idea, never mind his 'other motives' comment, which Harry would question him about later.

"What about Ron's dorm?" Hermione suggested. "He was definitely in there; the snakes should be able to tell, shouldn't they?"

Ron yawned. "You can let your snakes sniff around in there, but you're holding onto them and you're not letting them roam about in my bed, d'you hear?"

"Well, Black wasn't  _in_  your bed, Weasley," Draco said. "So that wouldn't help the snakes anyway. Unless there's a part of that story you forgot to tell us?"

"Shut up, Malfoy."

Draco snickered at him, as did most of the rest of the group. They all fell silent after a bit, and laid quietly under the stars. Harry listened to his friends fall asleep, one by one. Draco raised his eyebrow at Harry as Pansy sighed and cuddled up against his arm. Harry couldn't help but wink at him, and he could see that Draco had blushed, even as dark as it was in the Hall. Eventually, they could hear the telltale muttering from Blaise that meant he was dreaming. Once, last year, Harry and Draco had broken the charms on Blaise's curtains and talked him into a dream where he was being chased by owls that wanted to steal his trousers. Harry considered doing something similar tonight, but a glance to his side showed that Draco had fallen asleep already. Harry gazed up at the stars for a while until a quiet voice roused him from the half awake state he had fallen into.

"I don't think you have to worry about Sirius Black," Luna said, propping her chin up on a sleeping Anthony's chest, the better to observe Harry. Harry frowned.

"Everyone says he's trying to kill me," Harry told her. "And from the facts, it's certainly looking that way."

Luna shrugged. "Sometimes the people who make up the facts are wrong," she said simply. "I don't think he's after you at all."

Harry felt intrigued despite himself. "And why not?" he asked. Luna smiled at him.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" This phrase coming from Luna's mouth sounded a lot less superior than when Hermione said it, though in her defense, Hermione usually had the right to sound superior when she found need to use that phrase. "You're Harry Potter. Everyone in the wizarding world knew about it when you were sorted into Slytherin. People still talk about it. And he attacked Gryffindor."

She made a good point, Harry thought as she continued. "And besides, he's just trying to prove his innocence."

"Innocence?" Harry asked, his shock causing him to speak a bit louder than he'd intended. He glanced around guiltily, but none of the patrollers were nearby. He hadn't ever really considered the notion that Black could be innocent. "What do you mean?"

Luna just looked at him, her head tipped slightly to one side.

"Have you ever heard of the Hobgoblins?" she asked finally. Harry considered this a very sudden and unwelcome change of topic.

"No," he said, humoring her rather unwillingly.

"Stubby Boardman was their lead singer, he was quite good. He had an alias, 'Sirius Black'." She paused thoughtfully. "Or maybe Sirius Black was his real name and Stubby Boardman was his stage name. I'm not sure, I'll have to ask daddy. Either way, I don't think he did what they said he did."

Harry stared at her. She didn't look to be pulling his leg, so he nodded a bit. "Alright," he said uncertainly. "Thanks Luna," he said, turning his head back to look at the sky again.

"Goodnight then," she said, and her head disappeared as she lay back down on the other side of Anthony. Harry stared at the stars, feeling more confused than ever. He couldn't help but go over the strange conversation in his mind, and wondered if there was any truth to it at all. He'd have to ask Hermione to look into it. He'd ask Blaise too; Blaise liked music, he would know about Stubby Boardman.

That night, he dreamed that a gaunt Sirius Black in prison garb had discovered that the only way to save yourself from a dementor was to play music until they began to dance, which meant they would do whatever you told them to. In his dream, Black built a guitar out of toothpicks and his own hair, and used it to escape to the tune of one of the latest Weird Sisters songs.

The next morning, Harry woke, disoriented and confused on the floor of the Great Hall, with 'Magic Works' still stuck in his head.

He looked to his side, where Anthony and Luna had slept the night before. Anthony was still there, though Luna was gone.

"That girl was a bit strange," Harry told Anthony. Draco, next to Harry, had overheard.

"Harry, I think this is the first time we've ever agreed about something like this," he said, sounding relieved. "Thank Merlin."

Harry frowned. "I didn't mean that necessarily in a bad way," he said, causing Draco to roll his eyes in exasperation. "Where did Blaise go?"

* * *

"So," Draco said that day after classes were out, at the second to last Quidditch practice before their first game. "My father bought me a new broom in celebration of my new spot on the team." Harry and the rest of the team nodded appreciatively at the Nimbus 2002 that Draco showed them. "He also bought all of you new brooms."

Draco smirked at the dropped jaws that surrounded him. Harry shook his head and took the Nimbus Draco handed him with a grin.

"Really, Draco?" he asked, laughing a bit as the rest of the team crowed over the new broomsticks. "The entire team? Not that we're not grateful or anything…"

Draco flushed the slightest bit. "He was in a generous mood when I told him. My family doesn't do things halfway. Also my mum might have suggested it."

"Well then," Harry said, looking down his nose at the new brooms with mock disdain, "In that case, I'm curious as to where my Firebolt got to, Draco."

Draco looked around conspiratorially, and leaned forward when he was certain no one else was listening. "To be honest, I talked them down from that. Can you imagine what kind of damage Warrington could do to himself if he got hold of a Firebolt? He can barely control his Comet. Bole and Derrick aren't much better."

Harry nodded. Warrington had proved Draco's point at the last practice, when he attempted to throw the Quaffle to Draco and ended up going with it. Flint had pulled Harry aside after that practice and told him to catch the snitch quickly in the match against Gryffindor on Saturday.

Harry examined his new broom critically. It was nice, to be sure, but he liked his old broom just fine. There wasn't really a need for a new broom, but of course, Draco would be hurt if he tried to use his old Nimbus 2001. Harry therefore resigned himself to the extra Wednesday practice Flint decided was necessary to get them each used to their new Nimbus'. Draco grinned at him as they left the changing rooms to try them out, and Harry grinned back.

* * *

"So she said he might be this Stubby Boardman person," Harry explained. Hermione raised an eyebrow, which Harry was certain was an expression she'd stolen from Blaise, as he did it exactly the same way. It normally meant 'Are you kidding me?' when Blaise did it, so Harry took a wild guess at what her immediate reaction was going to be.

"You didn't really believe her, did you?" Hermione asked, shaking her head and going back to her book. Today wasn't a study group day, but of course, Hermione was in the library anyway. Harry assumed these were her quiet days away from Dudley, Neville and Ron. He glanced over at Anthony's table, where Luna sat reading alone, swinging her legs under the table in strange patterns.

"Well I don't know," he said, uncertain again. Luna looked up and waved. Harry waved back tentatively. "She seemed pretty sure of herself, and what do I know about these things? I'd never even heard of the Hobgoblins before, let alone Stubby Boardman."

"Well that's the point right there," she said when he looked back at her. "How many books and newspapers have you read about Black in?"

He shrugged. "Quite a few?"

"Exactly," Hermione said, skimming through her book again. "And not a one of them mentioned Stubby Boardman. It's unlikely they have anything to do with each other, although if you really want me to, I'll look into both of them for you."

Harry sighed. "Would you? I know it sounds ridiculous, but I don't want to not pursue something because it sounds like rubbish, and have it be exactly right."

"You're the worst kind of Slytherin," she muttered. Harry's eyebrows went up.

"What was that?" he asked. She looked up from her book with a winsome smile.

"Nothing."

Harry looked at her through narrowed eyes. "Right." He decided to change the subject, and lit upon her stacks of books. "How much homework do you have, anyway?"

There were two stacks of about five books each, and while this was nothing unusual, the spines were facing Harry and he had been able to read them and realize that they were all from different subjects. Hermione squinted at him and turned the books around so that he couldn't see the titles anymore.

"How can you be taking all these classes?" he asked curiously. Hermione, it appeared, was very absorbed in her textbook and was unable to answer. Harry looked at her closely and noticed a slight strain he hadn't really seen before.

He picked up the top book out of one of the piles, which had no library markings on it. He glanced through the pile and realized they were all Hermione's, which said something for the strength of her bag, not to mention her back.

"I forgot you were taking Divination," he commented, flipping through the comparatively short book. The others in her pile looked to be, on average, at least twice the size of this one. "Oooh, palm reading. How're you faring in that class?"

"Fine," Hermione said shortly. Harry paused, having apparently hit a sore spot. He honestly hadn't meant to, and he frowned, wondering what the problem could be.

"Aren't Ron and Neville in that class with you?"

Hermione nodded unwillingly.

"How're they doing at it?"

Hermione frowned severely. "They've taken to making it all up," she said, annoyed. "Why bother taking the class at all, if you're not even going to do all the work?"

Harry felt mildly guilty as she spoke. She clearly had a large workload if she was taking as many classes as he thought she was, and yet here he was, piling more on with this Black/Boardman business.

"Hermione, you don't have to look up that stuff about Stubby Boardman, if you don't want to," Harry offered. "I'll do it if you don't have enough time."

Hermione looked at him in wonder for a moment, and Harry felt even guiltier for having used her as his primary research method.

"No, Harry," she said, shaking her head slowly, eyes still a bit wide. "I have plenty of time, though if you'd really rather that I _turn_  it back over to you, I will."

Harry blinked. He felt as though the entire conversation had suddenly reached new heights that he hadn't been informed of.

"I suppose I have a bit of research to do then," he tried, and Hermione beamed at him.

"Thank you, Harry," she said, sounding incredibly relieved. "It'll be so nice not to have to do this alone. I mean, I know the school year only started two months ago, but it's been adding up, you know? I can't be faulted if you've looked into things yourself, and it'll be nice to have someone to talk to."

Harry nodded at her, smiling, and bid her goodbye. She looked much more cheerful than she had before, and Harry supposed that was what counted, even if he was still clueless. He'd figure out what she was going on about later. Surely research wasn't that great of a burden for her?


	6. The Match

" _So, what did you mean by 'other motives', Anthony?_ " Harry hissed. They were in Ron's dorm; he had let them in before he had to go to bed that night. The snakes had assured Harry and Anthony that the only way they would have a problem identifying Black's scent would be if Ron had covered his bed in dung before taking them upstairs, so they'd been confident, barring any insanity on Ron's part.

" _Other what?_ " Anthony asked, and Harry repeated it for him in English.

" _Oh, right. I meant it doesn't seem like he was aiming for you._ "

Harry's snake slithered down his wrist and onto Ron's bedpost. Behind them, Ron shuddered.

"This is so creepy," he said. Anthony and Harry ignored him.

" _Give me one good reason why he couldn't have just gotten the wrong dorm,_ " Harry argued. " _I mean, he even managed to get the right dorm year._ "

" _I don't know what he was doing in here, you're right, but really, Harry, …_ Dementors… _don't just let you escape with all your faculties intact. Most prisoners are drooling idiots after a few years there, and Black spent thirteen in that place. For some reason, he was able to_ _keep_ _his brains enough to escape._ "

Harry smiled a bit. " _Dementors,_ " he said, then switched to English. "And you have to be careful with some phrases in parseltongue, they don't always translate literally."

Anthony nodded, and Ron groaned a bit.

"Are you honestly giving him language lessons right now?" he asked incredulously. "Have your snakes do their thing already, would you?"

"They're doing it, Ron," Harry said. "We don't really do much. They'll tell us when they're done."

"Fine," Ron said. "I don't think you quite understand how creepy this is, though."

Harry sighed. "Alright. Anthony," he said in English, to make Ron feel better. "What makes you think he needed his faculties to escape?"

Anthony shrugged. "You don't just wander out of Azkaban, Harry. And you don't just wander into Hogwarts when it's surrounded by dementors. For that matter, you don't just make your way up to Gryffindor Tower, figure out the password without arousing suspicion, and find your way into a specific dorm with knife in hand. He had to be careful about how he did this. He had to plan. And he planned to make his way to where he did. He had a purpose, and I think Ron mucked it up by screaming."

Harry stared at Anthony for a moment. "You would have made a good Slytherin," he said in admiration. "Why didn't any of us think of that?"

Anthony smiled. "I'll take that as a compliment from you," he said. "And you were all so stuck on the idea that he was after you, you didn't consider anything else. Also, my aunt bought me a few adventure mystery novels this summer, and I kind of got into it."

Harry laughed at him.

" _We've found an unfamiliar scent,_ " Harry's snake said, slithering back up Ron's bedpost until he was level with Harry's face. " _The others were the human boys and the ...creature that lives here._ "

" _So you will recognise his scent from now on?_ " he asked, and both snakes hissed in confirmation, Douglas having joined Harry's snake on the bedpost.

"Are you done?" Ron asked hopefully. Harry nodded and held his hand out for the snakes to make their way up his arm. "Thank Merlin."

Harry and Anthony were escorted out of Gryffindor Tower by Ron, who was muttering to himself about changing his bed sheets. Harry waved at Dudley and Neville as they passed through the common room, noting that Hermione still hadn't returned from the library.

* * *

"Hey Blaise, do you know who Stubby Boardman is?" Harry asked after he and Anthony had split up and returned to their respective common rooms. Blaise had been sitting peacefully in front of the fire before Harry showed up.

Blaise furrowed his brow thoughtfully. " I think I know that name… he's from some old band that broke up around when we were born, isn't he?"

Harry shrugged. "Luna said he's from the Hobgoblins."

Blaise glanced at Harry, amused. "Harry, you do know that you drive Draco mad, making all these odd friends and coming back to us with the strange things they've filled your head with, right?"

Harry tried to keep himself from smirking, but failed rather horribly. Blaise observed this suspiciously.

"You do it on purpose, don't you?" he said. Harry snickered.

"Only sometimes," he replied honestly. "I just enjoy seeing the look on Draco's face. But about Stubby Boardman?"

Blaise shook his head. "I suppose he might have been from the Hobgoblins, that does sound right. Why were you and Luna discussing him?"

Harry bit his lip slightly. "Because she told me that Sirius Black is actually Stubby Boardman and that he's innocent."

Blaise raised an eyebrow at him, and Harry was reminded forcibly of his conversation with Hermione earlier.

"I know," Harry said, attempting to waylay him before he could say what Harry knew was coming. "But it wouldn't hurt to rule it out, would it? Anthony thinks Black had other motives, too, although I don't think he knows about the Stubby Boardman theory."

Blaise's eyebrow had not gone down. To make matters worse, Draco had just come from the dorm and made his way over to them.

"What's going on?" Draco asked, looking between Blaise's eyebrow and Harry's mild exasperation. Harry unwillingly explained what he had told Blaise already, and Draco sighed at him.

"Harry," he said, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry looked down at it, then back up at Draco, who had a very earnest expression on his face. "How do I say this to you, Harry? Ravenclaws are weird. It's quite possible that they're all completely insane. The sooner you understand this, the better off we'll all be."

Harry looked to Blaise for help, but Blaise just shrugged. "This is what you get," he said, then addressed Draco. "I'm tempted to agree, though I'd like to suggest that perhaps Harry just attracts the crazy ones."

Draco scratched his chin thoughtfully, ignoring Harry's expression of indignation. "So what you're saying, is that there might be perfectly normal Ravenclaws out there?"

Blaise shrugged again. "In theory."

"Both of you can shut it," Harry told them, fed up. "Anthony is perfectly sane. I don't really know Luna, so I can't say."

Draco and Blaise exchanged a knowing look. Harry countered these with a rather dark one of his own.

"Back to what I was saying," Harry said pointedly, and after getting their attention back, proceeded to explain Anthony's reasoning about Black's break in.

Surprisingly, Draco appeared to approve. "He makes a good point," he said, nodding. "Though he didn't explain how Black could have possibly kept from going mad all that time."

"Dark magic of some sort?" Blaise suggested sweetly to Draco, who eyed him askance. "Do you know of any spell or curse powerful enough to counter the dementors, Draco?"

Harry looked at Draco curiously, wondering if there really was such a thing.

Draco didn't bat an eye. "Well there's the Patronus," he said. "But you'd need a wand for that, and they confiscate those when you're arrested."

"The Patronus?" Harry asked, very interested. "That could be useful, do you think I could learn it?"

"That's a very difficult spell though, Draco," Blaise continued, meeting Draco's gaze. "Don't you know any that are easier or more effective?"

Harry watched as Draco and Blaise stared each other down, a slight frown on his face.

"The only one I know of is the Patronus," Draco finally said, sounding irritated, and changed the subject abruptly. "How did you and Anthony do in Gryffindor?"

"The snakes got his scent," Harry said, lifting his wrist to indicate the snake sleeping on it. "They'll be looking for it from now on."

"Good," Blaise said, though he was frowning slightly. "How are the Gryffindors?"

"They're fine," Harry told him. "Hermione seems a bit stressed. I think she's taking way too many classes."

"I think you're right," Blaise said, shaking his head. "She practically fell asleep in Arithmancy today."

Harry frowned, and opened his mouth to say that Hermione couldn't have been in Arithmancy today, as Blaise had that class when Harry had Ancient Runes, but Draco spoke first.

"To be fair, though, she only took her little nap after we finished the equations," he said. "Professor Vector doesn't care what you do as long as you've finished."

Harry nodded, thinking. Something was up here. Draco and Blaise went on talking about classes, but Harry stopped listening. How could Hermione have been in two places at once? He believed Draco and Blaise when they said she was in their class; they had no reason to lie about it, and it had been an offhand comment anyway. He thought back to the conversation he'd had with her earlier, and realized that whatever her secret was, she thought he knew.

Harry closed his eyes for a moment, feeling incredibly stupid. He resolved to go to the library first thing tomorrow morning and figure out what she had been trying to tell him.

* * *

"A Time Turner," Harry muttered as he walked to Professor Lupin's office for tea. "I can't believe she's got a Time Turner."

After two days of research, during which he had also tried in vain to look up details on Sirius Black (he couldn't even find a mention of Black's trial in the old newspapers, let alone anything linking him to Stubby Boardman), Harry had figured out what Hermione had been trying to tell him. It was the only possible answer, especially with the now rather obvious hints she'd been giving him.

Harry couldn't help but wonder how she'd gotten hold of one. The teachers had to know, he knew that much. He'd talk to her after his meeting with Lupin.

Lupin looked up from his papers and smiled tiredly as Harry walked into his office.

"Help yourself to some tea, Harry, I've just got to finish marking these papers."

Harry nodded and made them both a cup of tea. He set Lupin's down next to the papers, careful not to spill it, seated himself in his usual chair, watching the storm rage outside the window.

They sat in silence for a few moments as Lupin finished the current essay and stacked them to the side.

"Did you have anything in particular you wanted to talk about today, Harry?" he asked, picking up his cooling tea. Harry frowned thoughtfully.

"Not really," he said, pushing aside the urge to ask about Hermione. "How does a Patronus work?"

Lupin looked fairly surprised. "That's a very advanced spell, Harry. Where did you hear about it?"

"Draco and Blaise were talking about ways to get rid of a dementor," Harry explained. "And Draco said that was a spell you could use, though Blaise did say it was hard." Lupin nodded.

"It is a difficult spell," Lupin mused, taking another sip of his tea. "It involves focusing exclusively on a very happy memory, and using it to conjure a protector that will repel the dementor. The Patronus will repel other dark creatures as well, most notably the Lethifold."

Harry thought of Millicent and her boggart when Lupin said that. "What year do you teach it in?" Harry asked. Lupin shook his head.

"It's not on the curriculum, I'm afraid," Lupin said, to Harry's disappointment. "Though it is an incredibly useful spell, and probably should be. Maybe I should talk to Dumbledore."

Harry nodded and sipped his tea, before moving on to the one topic that always came up during their chats.

"Could you tell me another story about my dad?" he asked. Lupin smiled and thought for a moment.

"I suppose I could tell you about our Map," Lupin said, and Harry raised his eyebrows expectantly. "We all four were incredibly curious, and by sixth year we were certain that we had discovered most of Hogwarts. We decided that we couldn't possibly let all that knowledge go to waste, and so created a Map of the school. Can you guess what we called it?"

Harry grinned and hazarded a guess. "Marauder's Map, by any chance?" Lupin nodded, opening his desk drawer and pulling out a bar of chocolate. He offered a piece to Harry, who declined.

"Precisely, Harry," he said, breaking off a rather large piece for himself. "It took quite a lot of research, which was done mostly by Peter and I, as your father was better at the spellwork itself. Also, he never really developed the habit of studying, being naturally talented in most of his classes."

Harry nodded along with the story. He had noticed that Professor Lupin never really mentioned Sirius Black, and from what little Lupin  _had_  said, Harry was able to conclude that his father and Black were incredibly close, and that it was likely that whatever James had done in the story, Black had probably been doing as well. It had been a very interesting and slightly unsettling thing to learn, that his father had been betrayed by someone so close to him.

Lupin explained the Map in some detail, pausing every now and again for a bit of chocolate. He seemed quite proud of the Map. Harry could see why, because from what Lupin said, it was a very impressive invention. Every room in the castle was on it, including every secret passage and trick staircase. The Map adapted to changes in Hogwarts, so much so that passwords were provided to every part of the castle aside from teacher's rooms and the House areas. The most impressive part, though, as far as Harry was concerned, had to be that every person on Hogwarts grounds was tracked and labelled by name.

"James and I tested it thoroughly," Lupin reminisced. "We made every attempt to make it infallible. Nothing can hide you from someone looking at that Map. Not any spell or potion. Not even an Invisibility Cloak."

Harry smiled inwardly. Lupin had mentioned his cloak before, and seemed to be aware that Harry must have it, though he had never said so directly.

"Whatever happened to it?" Harry asked curiously. If Lupin had the Map, Harry could imagine that it made patrols incredibly easy.

"It was confiscated in our seventh year," Lupin said regretfully. "Filch caught us unawares and took it away."

Harry's eyes widened. "Filch has it?" he asked, several thoughts flashing through his mind at once as Lupin nodded. Filch had obviously never used it before, the way he complained about escaping students, which meant he probably didn't know what it was. And that meant it might just be laying around his office, which meant that Harry might be able to find it when Filch next invited him for tea.

The possibilities were endless with a map like that...

* * *

"First Quidditch game of the season," Harry commented as he strapped on his Quidditch gear.

"And it looks like hell out there," Draco said. Having already finished with his own gear, he sat next to Harry on the bench, looking as though he would very much like to be fidgeting nervously if not for the fact that he was a proper pureblood and didn't hold with fidgeting.

"We've been practicing," Harry reassured him. "You can fly in this, you'll be fine."

Draco sighed gustily. "Why did my first game have to be in the middle of a hurricane?"

Harry laughed. "You heard Flint," he teased. "It's not a hurricane, just a bit of rain."

Draco rolled his eyes. "A bit of rain that blew Warrington off his broom at practice yesterday. Warrington! How does he expect us to keep hold of our brooms if a giant lump like Warrington can't?"

Harry finished with his gear and handed Draco his glasses. "Warrington was being an idiot and trying to somersault with no hands. I'll never forget the sight of him falling through the air, trying to ride his Beater's bat."

Draco grinned at the memory as he charmed Harry's glasses impervious to water. Flint had pointed out the day before that Harry had to  _see_  the snitch to catch it, and so Harry had gone to Hermione, who had been thrilled to help now that she had Harry to confide in about the perils of time-turning.

"Thanks," Harry said as Draco handed the glasses back to him. Finally ready, they joined the rest of the team at the doors that led to the field.

"We're going to win today," Flint said menacingly as they stood in just inside the changing room. The wind roared past and nearly slammed the door shut. He faced the team, glaring fiercely. "We are not going out in this to lose, do you all understand?"

They nodded as one, and marched out of the warm changing rooms into the roaring winds.

Harry was soaked immediately, but his glasses remained clear. He thanked Hermione internally as he mounted his new Nimbus 2001; there was no way he could have played in this storm without her spell.

The second he took off, he knew he had to catch the snitch quickly. He was barely keeping himself from being blown off his broom; yesterday's storm was nothing compared to this. He glanced at the Gryffindor seeker, Ron's little sister, and noted that she had even less control over her broom in this weather than Harry did, because of her smaller size and strength.

Harry flew in careful circles around the field, staring all around for the snitch. Draco seemed to be holding his own, not that Harry could really tell. He was still on his broom at least, and he'd been holding the Quaffle the last time Harry had spotted him.

It was beginning to get dark, and Harry hadn't even spotted the faintest glint of gold. He had flown near the stands at one point and seen that Slytherin was up by fifty, but that didn't matter unless Harry actually managed to finish the game.

He was so focused at this point on finding the snitch and keeping an eye on the other Seeker, that he didn't even notice when the field went dead silent. Even the wind stopped roaring in his ears, and suddenly, there was the snitch, hovering a few feet above the ground, near the Gryffindor goalposts. Harry went into a dive just as the snitch shot off into the middle of the field. He followed it single-mindedly for a moment before realizing that something was horribly wrong. Everything was quiet, and though he'd been cold before, that was nothing compared to the feeling seeping into his bones now. He took his eyes off the snitch, feet away from him, just in time to notice that he was diving straight into a crowd of silent, black robed figures.

" _Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!_ "

" _Stand aside, you silly girl..._ "

Harry's vision filled with white fog, and a shrill voice laughed at a woman's screams as he was swallowed up by the sea of dementors.


	7. The Article

Harry cracked his eyes open, then shut them again. He could very vaguely hear whispering around him, but he was a bit too distracted by the searing pain in his entire body to pay it any attention. Everything hurt. It even hurt to think, though the idea that he probably should was starting to nag at him. What could possibly have happened to cause all this  _pain_?

"He's awake!" One of the whisperers had decided to speak louder. Harry wished he wouldn't.

"Harry, are you alright?"

"Potter?"

"Harry?"

Harry moaned a little inside. He cracked his eyes open a sliver and looked around. Draco, along with the entire Slytherin Quidditch team, Blaise, Pansy, Hermione, Dudley, and Neville, were all crowded around his bedside, soaked and covered in mud.

"Keep it down," he managed, and closed his eyes again.

"He's fine," Flint pronounced, sounding satisfied. "Of course he is, Potter knows what's important. I don't see the rest of you diving into a crowd of dementors to win us the game. Pathetic."

As Flint spoke, the entire fiasco came flooding back. Harry's eyes snapped open. They were all still watching him, aside from Flint, who was eyeing the rest of the team with disdain.

"Harry!" Hermione squeezed in next to Blaise so she could reach him, and took his arm, holding on just a bit too tightly. "Are you alright?"

"You scared the hell out of us, Harry," Blaise said, slightly ashen, though still grinning. "Amazing catch though."

Harry blinked up at them all. Flint took the opportunity to salute Harry and usher the team out of the hospital wing, still lecturing. Draco and Neville moved over to the now empty side of Harry's bed while Dudley hovered at the foot, and Pansy sat down by Harry's legs and patted his knee.

"Neville, hand Harry his glasses," she instructed, before turning to Harry and beginning to scold him. "Harry, you've got to be more careful. You can't keep going around getting yourself nearly killed every couple days. It's going to give me premature wrinkles."

Harry thanked Neville and put the glasses on. The world swam into focus and he saw that he had vastly underestimated the state his friends were in. Hermione's eyes were red and bloodshot, and Blaise looked incredibly upset; the grin he'd had now looked more like a grimace. Draco, though usually pale, looked whiter than a ghost and as though he was restraining himself from copying Hermione and taking Harry's arm. Dudley's eyes tracked Harry's every movement, and even Pansy's face was a carefully blank mask as she fussed with Harry's bedcovers, smoothing them compulsively.

"What exactly happened?" Harry asked, frowning at them. "Why were there dementors?"

For a moment, no one spoke. Then Pansy smoothed Harry's covers once more, and looked up at him.

"They were hungry," she said. "That's why they were there. I can't imagine they're fed properly here. As a matter of fact, I'd be horrified if they were."

"There was a big crowd of excited people and they flocked to it," Blaise added. "Everyone stopped playing once they realized they were there, but you -"

"You followed the bloody Snitch right into their waiting arms," Draco interrupted heatedly. "You just dove right in and disappeared and it took forever to get to you, even with Dumbledore and all the teachers trying to make the dementors leave."

"They didn't want to leave," Pansy said softly. "They were hungry. You were like a mouse in a snake pit."

Harry stared at them. Hermione spoke up in a shaky voice. "Dumbledore was furious. He ran right out onto the field and shot some silver stuff at them out of his wand, but it only made a few of them leave. There were so many of them. He had to do it a couple times before they all finally left you alone, and by then you were just laying there in the middle of the field. We all thought..."

Pansy squeezed his knee, then smoothed his covers out again. "The broom Draco's father bought you was destroyed," she said vaguely.

Harry stared numbly at his hands above the blankets. He had almost died. His broom had been  _destroyed_  in the process of his nearly  _dying._

"I...it's fine, Harry," Draco said, all the tension rushing out of his frame as he dropped down on the other side of Harry's legs. "I'm sure Father wouldn't mind replacing it if you want him to. Your old broom is still good, in the meantime."

"That's alright, Draco," Harry answered faintly. "He doesn't have to buy me a new one."

They all sat quietly for a minute or so, before Madame Pomfrey came bustling over and told them to come back later.

"You're soaked to the bone," she said disapprovingly. "I'll not have you all back here tomorrow with pneumonia because you couldn't change your clothes."

"Can't we just cast drying charms?" Draco asked, not moving from his spot on the bed. Madame Pomfrey raised an eyebrow at him.

"Visiting hours have been over for half an hour," she said severely. "As Mr. Dursley is family, he may stay ten minutes longer. But the rest of you have to leave."

Dudley perked up at this and cast a drying charm on himself. Harry smiled faintly at him, noting that Hermione's tutoring had paid off tenfold. Dudley moved closer to the bed as the rest of their friends said goodbye and left grudgingly.

"I was so scared when the dementors got you," Dudley said quietly. He was still watching Harry closely, face pale. "Neville explained to me about the Dementor's Kiss after Dumbledore finally got you off the field."

"The Dementor's Kiss?" Harry asked, confused. Dudley shuddered slightly.

"That's what they were trying to do to you," he explained, sitting down near Harry's legs. "They have a mouth under the hood, and they kiss you and suck out your soul through your mouth."

Harry suddenly felt very cold and clammy.

"That sounds absolutely awful," he said, horrified. "I'm happy Dumbledore stopped them."

"Me too," Dudley said solemnly. They contemplated the idea for a moment in silence.

"Ron was going to come and visit you too," Dudley unexpectedly. "But he's kind of upset at Hermione right now. He thinks her cat ate his rat. It probably did, but she doesn't think so and they're fighting. He said it was either her cat or your snakes, but he doesn't really think that, I don't think. He's just upset. He's had that rat forever."

Harry nodded absently. Dudley gave him a long, sombre look.

"You look terrible, Harry. Get some sleep." Dudley stood to leave, and looked down at Harry. "I'm going to write Dad and tell him what happened," he said. "You're coming home for Christmas, right? Only he'll want to know."

Harry nodded, and Dudley gave him a strained smile before turning and leaving the Hospital Wing.

* * *

The next morning, Draco, Blaise and Pansy showed up at the infirmary bright and early, Draco carrying a newspaper under his arm, and all three of them bearing various gifts.

"Daphne and Tracy asked me to give you these," Pansy explained, setting the cards and a vase of flowers on the nightstand. "You'll be getting several visitors today, besides."

Blaise agreed and began stacking the armful of sweets he'd brought. "Theo wishes you well, though I think I should taste-test these Chocolate Frogs he gave you for poisons, and probably those Jelly Slugs from Pucey, too. I always thought he was a shady character..."

Harry smiled. He was feeling much better this morning, and it looked like his friends were too. Draco dropped a stack of cards in Harry's lap and opened up the copy of the Prophet he'd been carrying.

" _Boy-Who-Lived Attacked By Dementors!_ " he read aloud importantly. Harry's eyebrows shot up.

"I'm in the paper?"

Pansy and Blaise made themselves comfortable in chairs around Harry's bed, but Draco remained standing.

"Of course you are, Harry," Pansy said dismissively. "Now listen, this is important."

Draco glanced at them briefly over the paper, and continued reading. " _Yesterday night, our very own Boy-Who-Lived was attacked by more than fifty dementors while playing Seeker for the Slytherin Quidditch Team during the first game of the season_."

"Was it really that many?" Harry asked, aghast. Blaise and Pansy nodded. Draco lowered the paper.

"The Prophet is calling for the removal of the dementors from Hogwarts," he said. Harry gaped at him.

"What?"

"They're saying the school needs better security that won't end you up in St. Mungo's," Pansy explained, sounding slightly amused. "If you gave an interview right now and demanded it, I'm sure they'd be gone in a few days."

"What do you think, Harry?" Blaise asked, already halfway through Harry's Jelly Slugs. "Dementors or no dementors? Is there anything else about Hogwarts that's been annoying you lately?"

Harry blinked several times, processing this strange new development.

"If we get rid of the dementors, though," Harry said thoughtfully, "What's to stop Black from getting inside?"

"He's already gotten inside, Harry," Pansy pointed out. "He's figured out a way past the dementors. They're no longer useful. Let's get rid of them."

Harry frowned. "Do you really think it'd be that easy? One interview?"

Draco smirked and sat down at the foot of Harry's bed. "I think it'd be as easy as rumours that you want them gone. Flat out say it, and you'll never see one again."

Harry's eyebrows went up as he considered this. "I'll think about it."

Pansy shrugged and picked up one of his cards. "This one is from...ooh, Hannah Abbot. This should be good."

Harry wrinkled his brow as she opened the card. "How did you bring cards from other Houses? I thought those were just from Slytherins."

"Bit of a big head, Harry?" Blaise commented, smirking at him. "Do you really think that all those cards could come from just Slytherin? Just for that, no Bertie Botts for you."

Draco rolled his eyes delicately as Blaise nicked more of Harry's sweets. "Blaise, we all know he'll have this many from each House by the end of the weekend."

"This was just the morning rush," Blaise agreed blithely. "Pansy and I have been just outside for a while, keeping a lid on your visitor traffic. Can't have just anyone walk in here with you in the state you're in."

"I'm fine," Harry said, blushing, embarrassed that they would go to all this trouble for him.

Blaise grinned and raised the Bertie Botts box in salute. Pansy and Draco ignored them, now cackling over the get well cards.

"It even rhymes!" Draco gasped. "It wouldn't be nearly so bad if it didn't rhyme!"

Harry rolled his eyes and was laughing at Pansy's exaggerated rendition of the poem when Hermione burst through the doors of the Hospital Wing with Dudley and Neville in tow.

"How are you this morning, Harry?" Neville asked, handing Harry a stack of cards. "These are from a few of the Gryffindors," he explained at Harry's curious look.

"Good morning, Harry," Dudley said, sifting through the pile of candy in his arms to set a package of Cockroach Clusters on the nightstand before settling in with Blaise to eat all of Harry's get well tokens.

"Did the Gryffindors decide Harry needed to work on his assignments?" Blaise asked, indicating the books and parchment Hermione held in her arms. Hermione smirked at him in amusement.

"These are mine," she said, and set them down in Harry's lap.

Harry looked up at her with his eyebrows raised, then down at the books.

"I've got two things to tell you about," she said, a tinge of excitement colouring her voice. "Number one is that I  _know_  who Tom Riddle is now." She sifted through the books and picked out one in particular, plus some parchment that looked like the genealogy she'd written out back at the beginning of term, only filled with a lot more writing.

"I had to put off researching it for a while, because schoolwork takes precedence of course, but I looked at it again last night," she explained eagerly, pulling out a quill and a clean sheet of parchment with Riddle's full name written in large, clear letters at the top. "It just seemed odd that he would have pulled a name like Voldemort out of thin air - "

Draco made a sound in the back of his throat. Pansy, Blaise and Neville didn't look happy about her use of Voldemort's name either. Hermione sighed and continued anyway.

"So I thought maybe he didn't," she said, becoming more animated as she explained. "There's a V-O-L in Marvolo, so I thought maybe it was an anagram." As she spoke, she wrote out the words 'Lord Voldemort' on the parchment, and began tracing arrows from Riddle's name to Voldemort's. Harry's eyes widened slightly as each letter found its place. The others were leaning in as well, watching with wary interest. Dudley frowned when she finished the name.

"You've left out three letters," he pointed out, using his sugar quill to indicate them. "M, I and A. Was his first name meant to be Mia or something?"

Pansy's eyebrows shot up past her hairline. She opened her mouth to say something, but Draco beat her to it.

"Mia?" he repeated scornfully. "First of all -"

"Draco, shut up," Blaise interrupted, grinning. "I think Mia is the perfect first name for the Dark Lord. It's very unusual. I think it's dignified, don't you, Harry?"

Blaise's eyes were dancing with amusement, even as Hermione huffed at Dudley and Draco in exasperation.

"No, it's not part of his name," she said. "If you would just  _let me finish._.." She drew arrows from the three extra letters to the front of the name, to make the phrase, 'I am Lord Voldemort'.

"You-Know-Who didn't think Mia was very dignified, then," Neville said after a moment. "Though 'I am' isn't much better, is it?"

"If his middle name had been 'Narvolo', he could have been an Ian," Blaise decided. He was clearly enjoying this much more than Pansy and Draco, who were looking a bit sick. "Ian is a pretty dangerous sounding name, don't you think so, Draco? Very eastern European, I think."

Draco looked like he had lockjaw. Hermione looked up at him expectantly, almost challengingly. "Is this proof enough, do you think?"

Harry, along with the rest of the group crowded around his bed, turned their eyes to Draco for his answer. He sat in silence for a moment, the barest of emotions flitting across his face.

"I need to think about this," he said finally. Harry frowned at him. What was so difficult about accepting that Hermione was right? "What was the other thing you had to talk about?"

He noticed Harry looking at him and looked away, refusing to meet his eyes.

Hermione interrupted anything Harry would have said, though, with a shocking revelation. "Sirius Black never had a trial."

She sat back and watched with satisfaction the effect her words had. Harry's head had swung almost involuntarily away from Draco to stare at her, even as he forced his jaw to stay in place and not drop.

"Excuse me?" Neville and Blaise echoed with similar expressions of surprise.

"He never had a trial. There was no mention of his trial anywhere I looked." She leaned forward, eyes bright. "Normally, like with Marvolo Gaunt's arrest, the Daily Prophet mentions somewhere in the article that you can owl the Ministry for a transcript. They're considered public information, you understand, especially the older ones. I owled the Ministry, and I got a response from the Department of Archives and Records saying that they didn't have a copy, and that as far as they knew, their Department had never received one."

"And from this, you decide he never got a trial?" Pansy asked sceptically. "Couldn't it have just gotten lost somewhere on the way?"

Hermione shook her head. "The archivist said she had thought it was strange, and when she looked into it she found out they never gave him a trial in the first place. I got the owl confirming it yesterday, but of course with all the excitement I couldn't bring it up until now."

There was silence for a moment, until Draco broke it.

"Imagine this," he said, a devious smirk beginning to blossom on his features. "' _Harry Potter Demands Removal of Dementors from Hogwarts and Fair Trial for Sirius Black'_  That's the headline."

Pansy's eyes were wide with the possibilities. "Imagine it! If Black is innocent and Harry makes a big deal of it in the papers, he'll probably come back for a trial, and either way this'll all be settled.

"What if he's not innocent, though?" Neville asked. "I mean, would he risk coming back if he knew he'd likely lose?"

"Not if he thinks Harry Potter is on his side," Draco said, eyes gleaming. "He'd be more likely to be declared innocent just because Harry said so, and if he's been paying any attention to the papers, he'll know how the wizarding world reacts to the Boy-Who-Lived. And if he's insane and doesn't think that far ahead, well, at least we'll know what we're dealing with."

He grinned at Harry, who grinned back in spite of himself. Draco made a very good point.

"How about this for a headline," Pansy suggested. " _Boy-Who-Lived Claims Convicted Criminal was Never Convicted_!"

"Ooh, I like that one," Blaise said approvingly. "Good alliteration. How about ' _Dementors Attack Boy-Who-Lived Because of Ministry Incompetence'?_ "

"You three are shameless," Hermione said, though she looked just as excited as they were. "I'll have to write back to that archivist, maybe she'll be willing to give a quote for the article." Harry laid back in his bed, smiling. It looked like the question of whether he should use his name had been answered, though he found he didn't mind as much as he'd thought he might. The headlines they were coming up with were actually pretty good, if he thought about it, and if it settled this Sirius Black business once and for all, Harry was willing to put himself out there a bit.

"This calls for a celebration," Blaise said, raising a newly opened box of Jelly Slugs. "If Harry feels up to it, of course. It's still a Hogsmeade weekend until eight o'clock tonight. I'm sure we can get you out of here by then."

"How are you going to get this in the paper?" Dudley asked. "You aren't going to write it yourselves, are you?"

Draco shook his head and picked up the newspaper he'd been reading when he first came in. "Of course not. We're going to have an expert do it." He tapped the article about the Dementor attack. "The journalist who wrote this will do nicely. Rita Skeeter."


	8. The Map

"Harry, could you please stay after class?"

Professor Lupin stood next to Harry's desk as the class packed up and left. They had been learning about Hinkypunks that day, and the tank sat in the centre of Lupin's desk next to a copy of the day's newspaper and Lupin's class notes.

"Professor?"

"In my office," Lupin said rather abruptly. Harry bit the inside of his lip and followed. He thought he knew what this might be about.

Lupin fixed them both tea, as was their custom, and Harry perched nervously in his usual chair. Lupin had brought the newspaper with him into his office, and it sat in the middle of the desk.

Calmly, Lupin set Harry's tea cup down in front of him and took his own seat. He pushed the newspaper toward Harry, who opened it to see the familiar headline. " _Boy-Who-Lived Claims Convicted Criminal Was Never Convicted!_ " Rita had decided during their first meeting that this headline had the most merit and had run with it.

"Harry," Lupin said, face impassive. "Could you please explain this?"

"It's true, sir. The Ministry -"

"I read the article, Harry." Lupin's voice was pained now, his gaze intent on Harry. "What did you intend to accomplish with this?"

Harry knew he was on shaky ground. Professor Lupin never mentioned Black. He went out of his way to avoid discussing the man, and now Harry had gone and thrown it in his face.

"Sir, I...what if it's true? What if he's innocent?"

Lupin closed his eyes. "Just because someone didn't get a trial doesn't mean they didn't commit the crime."

"But...it's still not right, is it?"

"I'll ask you again," Lupin said, his voice shaking slightly. "What did you hope to accomplish with this?"

Harry forced himself to not fidget. All his Slytherin motivations seemed heartless when faced with Professor Lupin's obvious distress and anger. "I want this to end, sir," he said softly.

"Innocent or not, if he's given a trial this will end."

"You have forced yourself into the middle of this situation, Harry," Lupin informed him. "What will you do if he is not innocent? If he breaks into Hogwarts again, if Dumbledore removes the Dementors from the grounds as you suggested? If he isn't innocent, your offer of a trial won't mean much to him. He didn't find you last time, but with this article it's like you're waving a flag and handing him directions!"

Harry flinched minutely. "But professor, what if he is innocent?"

Lupin breathed deeply for a minute before answering. "Harry, I have told you many stories about the four of us at Hogwarts, have I not?"

Harry nodded, and when it didn't look like Lupin was going to look up, he said, "Yes, you have."

"More than anyone, I want him to be innocent." Lupin finally met Harry's gaze, and Harry looked away at the pain he saw. "But Harry, you're a Slytherin. One thing I should think you would understand is that trust should never be given where it is not deserved."

* * *

"A toast, to Rita Skeeter," Draco declared, raising his mug of butterbeer. The rest of the group, made up of Harry's Slytherin friends and Hermione, followed suit, though Harry was slightly less enthusiastic than the rest. They were in the kitchens, having all met up directly after the last class of the day to celebrate.

"A toast to Hermione," Blaise said, "For being the sleuth that started it all."

Hermione smiled and nodded her head to all the raised glasses.

"A toast to the Ministry," she said, and when the rest of the group stared at her incredulously, she added, "The Archives Department is useful, anyway."

There was general laughter as everyone clinked their glasses together and drank.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Pansy asked, noticing his troubled expression. Harry nodded and looked down at his mug.

"I talked to Lupin after class today," he admitted. "He's not at all happy with me. He thinks we made a mistake."

Draco frowned. "What do you mean?"

Harry sighed and took a sip of his drink. "He doesn't think this'll make Black leave Hogwarts at all. He thinks it's going to encourage Black to come back here again, and he told me not to get my hopes up that he might be innocent."

The rest of them sat quietly for a moment, stumped. "Doesn't he want Black to have a trial?" Hermione asked finally. "Even if he did it, he deserves a trial."

"I know, I said that," Harry agreed. "But he thinks Black won't bother with a trial unless he's innocent."

"I suppose that makes sense," Pansy admitted. "He might not want to take the risk of being sent back to Azkaban if he knows he did it. I suppose we were just hoping he was Gryffindor enough to do it anyway."

Harry twisted the corner of his mouth upward. "Where  _are_  Dudley and Neville?"

Hermione shrugged. "They were trying to convince Ron to come along when I left. He's stopped blaming me for his rat, but he won't admit it. Does Lupin really think Black will think like that?"

"Lupin was best friends with him for years, Hermione," Harry said. "He'd know better than we would, anyway."

"Would the Great Harry Potter like another butterbeer?"

Harry restrained himself from rolling his eyes and looked down at the house elf standing by the table. "No thank you, Dobby, I'm fine."

Dobby bowed. "Would any of the Great Harry Potter's friends like a butterbeer?"

"Hey, Dobby, remember me?" Draco asked from across the table, exasperated. "You know, your actual master? Why don't you get  _me_  another butterbeer?"

Dobby bowed to Harry again and trotted over to Draco. "Would Master Draco like a butterbeer?"

Draco rolled his eyes and said, "Yes, Dobby, I would like a butterbeer."

"Draco, you're not half done with the one you've got," Pansy pointed out, smirking. Draco huffed at her.

"That's hardly the point. Harry's stealing my house elf and I won't have it."

"I'm not stealing him!" Harry said, a touch indignant. "I don't need a house elf!"

"Yeah, it's not Potter's fault!"

"He's just got a certain-"

"-animal magnetism."

The door to the kitchens had opened, revealing Neville, Dudley and Ron, plus Ron's twin brothers. It had been the twins that had spoken, grinning.

"Though a house elf isn't really an animal," the one said thoughtfully, as they all pulled up chairs and sat.

"'House elf magnetism'..." The twins contemplated it.

"Doesn't sound quite right," one decided. "Sounds-"

"Perverted, if you ask us," said the other, whom Harry decided to arbitrarily call Fred.

"Hi guys," Neville said, sitting with Dudley next to Harry. Harry greeted them with a smile, ignoring Hermione's slightly scandalized response to the twins.

"Celebrating the article then?" Ron asked, avoiding Hermione's gaze. "Caused a bit of an uproar this morning at breakfast."

"It was rather awe-inspiring," George agreed.

"Most of the post we got looked to be on Harry's side," Blaise said smugly. "It doesn't matter if Black is innocent at this point. People are furious because Harry told them to be. The Ministry is going to have a lot on its plate because of us."

"What about the dementors?" Neville asked. Pansy smirked.

"They'll be gone by the end of the week."

The twins whistled. "Impressive," Fred said.

"That'll be nice," George agreed. "It's difficult to get anything done with those-"

"- _things_  around. We've had to put off several shenanigans-"

"-and more than half of our tomfoolery."

"It's even put a damper on our high-jinks!"

"And you know how much we love those."

"Filch is going crazy wondering when we'll strike next." This was said with immense satisfaction.

"Almost makes it worth it..."

"Speaking of," Harry interrupted, remembering suddenly. "I'm going to have tea with Filch tomorrow."

The twins abruptly stopped talking and stared at him.

"Fraternizing with the enemy are you?" George asked curiously, accepting the butterbeer Dobby offered him.

Harry shrugged. "According to Lupin, he confiscated something that belonged to my father when he went to school here. Filch and I are friendly enough that he'll leave me alone in his office without thinking twice. I think I can get it back."

"What is it?" Everyone was looking at Harry with interest. Apparently he hadn't mentioned the Map to any of his friends yet.

"It's a map of Hogwarts," Harry explained. "Professor Lupin told me about it. He and my dad and a couple of their friends all made it in their sixth year, it shows all the secret passages and everything."

"That sounds useful," Pansy said thoughtfully. "Especially if you ever need to make a quick escape, with Black around and all."

"That's another thing," Harry explained animatedly. "It shows where everyone is in the castle. And according to Lupin, it can see through disguises and Invisibility Cloaks and everything."

There was a clunk as the twins dropped their mugs, spilling liquid all over the table.

They sat for a moment, goggling at Harry as butterbeer dripped off the table and into their laps. Dobby and two other house elves manoeuvred around them anxiously, cleaning it up as Draco jumped out of his seat and complained loudly about the new mess on his robes.

All three elves squealed with surprise when both twins shot up out of their chairs in the same moment and descended upon Harry, grinning widely and trading turns at speaking rapidly.

"Harry, dear boy, good friend-"

"-you never told us!"

"How could you keep something so important-"

"-monumentally important-"

"-from us old boy?"

"You're a son of a Marauder-"

"-A  _son of a Marauder_!"

Neville and Blaise, who were sitting next to Harry, were unceremoniously dumped from their seats as Fred and George took their places, scooting closer to Harry and beaming at him.

"Which was your father then?"

Harry smiled a little. "James."

"No, no!" Fred said, exasperated. "Which was he?"

"Moony?"

"Wormtail?"

"Or was he Padfoot or Prongs? Come on Harry!"

Harry blinked. Lupin had mentioned nicknames, but hadn't elaborated much.

"I know that Professor Lupin was Moony," he offered. The twins shot up from their chairs excitedly.

"Professor Lupin was Moony!" crowed one of the twins. They had begun pacing, and as they were wearing identical uniforms, Harry had lost track of his naming convention. He decided that this one was George, and moved on. "That old dog!"

"Trying to scold us for the Goo Incident when he was one of the masterminds behind the Gouda Catastrophe of '77!"

Harry blinked. "He never mentioned that one." Fred glanced at him, grinning.

"Then we'll just have to tell you all about it," he said promptly, taking his pilfered seat again. The other one followed suit and leaned forward, eyes bright.

"It began at lunch one drowsy May afternoon," he began, before Harry interrupted him.

"Wait, how do you know?" Harry asked. The twins grinned.

"Our oldest brother, Bill, went to Hogwarts a couple years after the Marauders," Fred explained. "He went to school with people who went to school with them, and he heard all the stories."

"They were bedtimes stories for us when Bill came home for holidays," George said, grinning. "The Marauders are legendary rulebreakers, after all. Bill thought we'd enjoy them."

Harry smiled as Ron snorted and spoke up. "I remember, you tried to recreate the cheese thing in Mum's kitchen once." He glanced at Harry. "They were in trouble for three months after that. I don't even know how they got hold of Mum's wand in the first place."

"Sticky fingers, ickle Ronnie," George said with a sneaky grin. "She should have known better by then to give one of us a hug when she couldn't see the other."

"I used to do something similar to my mother," Pansy said, smirking. "Only she was usually so shocked that I wanted a hug that I didn't need an accomplice."

"My mother always used to leave her wand lying around when I was little," Draco said thoughtfully, having been cleaned up by Dobby. "I think she did it on purpose, actually. I went through a phase where I loved the colour blue, and every time I stole her wand I turned everything in the manor turquoise, including my father. She always hid me in the kitchens afterward so I wouldn't get in trouble."

"So what happened at lunch?" Harry asked, still grinning at the image of a turquoise Lucius Malfoy. The twins, who had been laughing themselves sick at the idea, settled down and got back to the story at Harry's question.

"Well, there was Gouda on the menu," they began. "And Wormtail loved that type of cheese, apparently. So naturally they needed more..."

* * *

Dinner came and went in the kitchens as the twins regaled them all with stories of Harry's father and his friends. By the time they left, Harry had heard about the Gouda Catastrophe of '77, which involved, obviously, a lot of Gouda, the Great Hall, and several mice. He had also heard about the time when they coated McGonagall's desk with catnip, among other things. The twins pulled him aside one last time out in the corridor, and shooed the rest of the group away. Dudley, Neville and Ron left with waves and grins, though Draco, Pansy and Blaise waited for Harry's nod before going. Hermione stayed for a moment to reassure Harry that Lupin would get past his upset and squeezed his hand before leaving Harry alone with the twins.

"We were thinking," George said, and the twins had a short staring contest before Fred continued.

"We have something of yours," he said. "And we want to pass it on to you."

"We have faith that you'll keep the oath of the Marauders," George added.

"The oath?" Harry asked, confused. The twins shook their heads at him in unison.

"Harry, Harry, Harry."

"You have so much to learn about your legacy."

"That's what we're for, I suppose." Fred reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick sheaf of paper. "And to think it didn't even occur to us that there might be a next generation of Marauders."

"I'm the only one," Harry said, eyeing the parchment with interest. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Yes it is," George said proudly. "The Marauders' Map." Fred presented it to him with a flourish and a bow.

"It's yours, mate. Never forget the oath."

Harry nodded, eyes glued to the parchment. "Yes, but what's the oath?"

The twins gave him a secret smile. Fred glanced around the silent corridor, checking for eavesdroppers, before joining his twin in placing his wand tip to the parchment and reciting in a low voice, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

* * *

The Map opened up new doors for Harry that he had never even dreamed of. After thanking the twins profusely and memorizing a few more tips about the Map, he made his way down to the dungeons, avidly watching himself move on the Map. When he got to the blank wall that was the entrance to the Slytherin common room, he grinned to see that it was marked off as 'Snake Territory'. Pansy, Draco and Blaise were all waiting for him in the common room, though Harry found to his (slightly guilty) satisfaction that the Maruaders had never really delved further into Slytherin territory than the common room; the delineations of the dormitories were vague, though that didn't stop the Map from identifying anyone. His other three roommates were grouped in an area that was almost certainly Harry's dormitory. Harry's eyes trailed back to the entrance and noted that Adrian Pucey was approaching. Harry wiped the Map clean with the incantation the twins had told him, before placing it very carefully in his pocket and going inside.

"What did they want, Harry?" Blaise asked when he neared their grouping of chairs.

"They had the Map, didn't they?" Draco asked, watching Harry expectantly. "Say that they had the Map, and say they gave it to you. I've got a bet going with Pansy."

"I think they know where the Map is, or want to help you steal it from Filch," Pansy said, lounging in her chair.

Harry glanced around at the other students in the common room and said, "Theo, Vince and Greg are all in the dorm, but your roomates are gone, Pansy. Can we go to your room to talk about this?"

Blaise laughed and Draco grinned smugly at Pansy, who swatted Harry on the arm.

"That is incredibly creepy, you know," she said matter-of-factly, and stood up "Lets go. You three had better have your wits about you on the way, though. There are certain...protections on our part of the dungeons against the likes of you."

Draco scoffed. "What I don't understand is why we don't get the same protection from nymphomanical females like yourself."

Pansy stepped into the hallway of the girls dorm and gave him a level look. "Just for that, you're not getting any forewarnings. And Slytherin must have known boys like you were going to end up in his house. Merlin knows you need all the help you can get, Draco."

Blaise and Harry laughed at Draco, hovering outside the door that separated the girl's hallway from the common room.

"Have fun," Pansy said, waggling her fingers at them as she walked safely down the hall and stepped through the third door on the right.

"Alright, Harry, you go first," Blaise said, pushing at Harry's arm. Harry eyed him incredulously.

"What do you take me for?" he asked. "I vote we send Draco first."

Draco made a sound of betrayal and glared at Harry.

"I second that," Blaise added quickly. He grinned at Draco when the glare was turned on him. "I'm certainly not going first."

Draco changed tactics and fixed Harry with a helpless expression that involved big eyes and a trembling lower lip. Harry furrowed his brow and began to reconsider, but Blaise stepped between them.

"Harry, don't fall for it," he warned, deliberately blocking Draco from view. "Beneath that puppy dog stare is a vicious, conniving bulldog. Always remember that."

Draco began protesting from behind Blaise's back. "I take offense to that, Blaise!"

"You were supposed to," Blaise shot over his shoulder, smirking. "You've been outvoted, Draco. Off you go."

Draco grumbled under his breath and Blaise finally stepped out Harry's view in time for Harry to see Draco take a deep breath and step through the doorway. He immediately yelped and dodged several flagstones that were aimed at his head. Harry crossed his fingers for Draco as he took several more careful steps.

"I feel like I should have a tethering line," Draco said conversationally. "You know, just in case."

"Just keep going," Blaise called cheerfully. "You'll get there eventually."

Draco took another step, and a mist appeared directly in front of him.

"I don't like the look of that," Harry called worriedly.

"I'm almost there," Draco announced. "I'm going to dive through it and try to land in her room. She left the door open."

"Because that's not an incredibly stupid idea," Blaise muttered. "Harry, do me a favour and never be as much of a Gryffindor as Draco."

"Draco, darling, what's taking you so long?" Pansy called innocently from the room. Draco took a deep breath and stepped forward.

"Draco, duck!" Harry yelled, and Draco dropped to the ground just as a blast of fire roasted the air at about chest level.

"Holy shit!" Draco yelled from the floor. "What was that?"

"Just go, Draco!" Blaise urged, eyes wide. "Get to Pansy's room!"

Draco shifted into a crouching position and made a diving leap through the mist, landing with his body halfway through Pansy's door. There was a flash of metal and Draco scrambled out of the way just in time, missing the razor sharp blade that sliced a groove in the floor where his torso had just been.

Harry and Blaise stood stock still for a moment, staring at the doorway.

"Hey, Draco, I changed my mind," Harry called tentatively. "I think we could just go to our room and put up a silencing charm."

There was silence from Pansy's room.

"Good luck getting out, Draco," Pansy snickered eventually.


	9. The Marauder

"There is no way!  _No way,_ " Draco yelled from beyond Pansy's doorway. "I am  _not_  coming all the way back out there! You two are coming in here and I don't care if you lose an arm!"

Harry glanced at Blaise, who was snickering quietly behind his hand, mindful that Draco not hear him.

"He makes a good point, you know," Harry pointed out. "It's not fair that we make him do it twice for no reason."

Blaise gave Harry an incredulous look. "Who said anything about fair? I'm not getting myself maimed so that Draco can feel that we were 'fair'."

"Here," Harry offered. "I'll go next. If it's the same, you'll know what to do."

Blaise considered his offer, and shook his head. "You're too softhearted for your own good, Harry."

Harry raised an eyebrow at him. Blaise shrugged and gestured at the doorway. "After you."

Harry stepped into the hallway, and immediately ducked the flagstones. Another few steps, and the mist appeared. Harry paused.

"Pansy?" he called.

"Yes, Harry?" Her head appeared through the doorway, smiling inquisitively.

"What did the mist do to Draco?"

Pansy stepped out into the hallway and shrugged. "Just disfigured his face," she said, glancing back into her room and smiling slightly. "I told him he looks better that way, he's sulking in a corner. Also," she lowered her voice to a whisper and started walking toward him. "I'm pretty sure it's also got some sort of temporary impotence curse built in."

Harry's eyes widened and he took a step back. Pansy paused, opening her mouth to warn him, and Harry saw the snakes just in time. He dashed forward at a crouch and leapt through the mist, landing in Pansy's room and missing the blade by a hair.

He rolled a few times and landed against a bedpost. Harry got his bearings and sat up after a moment, looking around. The room was set up the same as the boys dorm, only with a lot more pink involved. There was a huddled blonde lump on the bed he had fetched up against, which meant it was probably Pansy's. All the pink looked to be her fault.

"Hey, Draco, we made it," Harry said, joining him on the bed.

"My face hurts," was Draco's reply. Harry considered this for a moment, and found that he quite agreed. Whatever disfigurement the mist had caused hurt quite a lot.

"Aren't you two a sad sight," Blaise said as he walked in with Pansy on his arm. Draco looked up at him, then at Harry, then at Blaise again. His eyes narrowed. Harry joined him. Draco's face was covered in pustules and angry red spots, and Harry was sure he looked no better. Blaise, on the other hand, looked fine. Harry gave Pansy a look of betrayal.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Harry asked, holding his jaw, where a particularly angry sore had chosen that moment to start throbbing.

"I didn't mean for you to go through by yourself, Harry," Pansy said sympathetically. "Just Draco. If I had brought you in, the traps wouldn't have been activated."

"Thanks a million Pansy," Draco muttered. "Harry here is my only true friend."

"Oh hush up, Draco, I've got some salve here that'll clear you right up." Pansy walked over to a desk that Harry was almost certain did not belong to her and started rooting through the drawers. Harry made eye contact with Draco, then glanced at Blaise, who was still standing by the door looking smug. Draco narrowed his eyes and nodded slightly.

Harry stood up and pretended to watch Pansy while Draco frowned and rubbed at his face.

"Draco, if you touch it, you'll just make it worse," Pansy said patiently from the desk. "Here it is." She held up a small bottle.

"Good," Draco said, and stood up as well. Instead of walking toward Pansy, though, he raised his wand and advanced on Blaise.

"Hey!" Blaise yelped in surprise as Harry launched himself at their smug friend and tossed him out the door. Draco poked his head out for a moment and cast  _Colloportus_  at the entrance to the common room before slamming Pansy's door shut and locking it firmly.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Come here, Harry." She began applying the salve to his face, pausing only a moment when they heard Blaise yelling and hammering on the door.

"Harry, I can't apply this when you're smirking like that."

"Sorry, Pansy."

"Let me in you bastards! Ow! Harry, there are snakes out here! Help me!"

Draco sighed and leaned against the door with a small smile on his face. "Me next, Pansy?" There was a roaring sound, and Blaise howled. "There goes the fire," he said with satisfaction.

* * *

They let Blaise back in when Harry and Draco's faces had gone back to normal, and Pansy cast a colour charm on the doorknob that was apparently her room's code that meant she needed privacy and that her roommates were to sleep elsewhere.

"It's not like the snakes were poisonous, Blaise," Harry said reasonably, reclining on the bed as Pansy applied Blaise's salve. Draco was sitting next to the bed in Pansy's desk chair, watching every flinch with enjoyment.

"I was wrong about you, Harry," Blaise told him. "You're not softhearted at all. You're just as vicious as Draco." He didn't sound as upset about it as he might have, so Harry just grinned at him.

"Your training is complete, Harry," Draco said proudly. "Now lets see that map of yours."

Harry sat up and pulled it out of his pocket, spreading it out on the bed so that they could all see it clearly.

"Alright, now watch," he said, and Pansy quickly finished applying the salve to Blaise's face and sat on the foot of the bed, where Blaise joined her. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good," Harry recited, and the Map came alive, lines winging out to every corner of the parchment. All four of them leaned over it, watching avidly.

"Look, there's Gryffindor Tower," Pansy said, smirking. "I wonder what Granger is doing in the boys dorm."

"That's her cat," Harry said, pointing at the name next to Hermione's. "Crookshanks probably snuck in or something, apparently he's always trying to break into Dudley's room."

"There's Filch," Blaise said, pointing at a nearby corridor. "I didn't know there was a broom closet in that part of the seventh floor."

"Have you ever seen this passage?" Harry asked, pointing out a set of lines that led from the seventh floor to the fifth.

"I haven't," Blaise said, tracing another with his finger. "Nor this one."

"I've seen that one," Draco said. "I use it when I'm in the library and late for Charms. It's behind a tapestry."

They examined the Map for a while in silence, speaking only to point out an interesting room or corridor they'd never seen. They found several passages that led off the grounds, toward Hogsmede, which they all thought would be especially useful. Blaise had just found another and they were debating where in Hogsmede it might lead when Harry's snake slithered down from his spot on Harry's upper arm, hissing madly.

" _I smell it, I smell the man. He is nearby!_ "

Harry opened his mouth to reply just as Pansy gasped and grabbed Harry's arm.

"Harry, it's Black!"

Harry followed her pointing finger to the passage they had just been discussing. A dot labeled 'Sirius Black' was moving along at a rapid pace.

" _Thank you,_ " Harry said, stroking his snake's scales as he stared fixedly at the moving dot.

"That comes out on the third floor," Draco said softly, eyes wide. They watched with bated breath as Black made his way into the third floor corridor and slowed down considerably.

"He's not even going near the Dementors," Blaise whispered. "That's how he's been getting in so easily. Merlin, what do we do?"

Harry looked toward the door. Draco grabbed the arm Pansy didn't already have a hold of tightly and said, "No, Harry."

All three of them were staring at him now. Pansy's hand lingered near her wand on the bed.

"Don't even think it," she said calmly. "I have to let you out unless you want to go through that obstacle course again, and I'm not going to."

"But what if he-" Harry began, only to be cut off by Blaise, who was looking at the Map.

"He's going up," he said, anticipating Harry's argument. "You won't be in any danger unless you go chasing after him."

Harry examined the Map, confused. Black was, in fact, heading upward, taking only secret passages.

"He helped make the Map," Harry breathed. "He knows this school better than anyone. No wonder he didn't get caught last time."

"I find it particularly interesting that he still knows the school so well," Pansy said thoughtfully. "He must have kept some part of his sanity, at least."

"What is he doing?" Harry muttered, frustrated. Not once had Black done as they expected, right now included. "Why is he going to Gryffindor again?"

There was nowhere else Black could be going. He had headed up without a thought, and he was on the seventh floor already, a short distance from the entrance to Gryffindor, when he disappeared off the Map.

"Where did he go?" Draco cried out. Harry leaned forward and studied the Map anxiously. He couldn't have just gone, he had to be somewhere, he couldn't just disappear!

"There!" Pansy said, pointing. Black had reappeared in the Gryffindor common room, near an outer wall.

"That must be a passage," Harry said firmly. "Why didn't they put it on the Map?"

"Maybe they wanted to keep it a secret?" Blaise suggested. "Just in case the Map fell into the wrong hands?"

"It couldn't have been a guarded entrance," Pansy said. "He got in too easily."

"They have a portrait that guards the entrance for them," Draco said. "Harry and I met her when we went there in second year."

"You're right," Harry agreed. "He would never have gotten past her if she knew he was there. It must be a hidden entrance. But  _why_  is he up there? What is he doing?"

A moment later Black made his way up the boys' staircase, and Harry jumped up out of his seat. Draco stood at the same time and pulled out his wand, looking nervous but resolute.

"Draco, I can't just sit here and watch!" Harry yelled, angry and frantic now. "What if Ron doesn't wake up in time again? Dudley and Neville are up there too!"

"You're not going," Blaise said firmly. Pansy stood up too, and all three were pointing their wands at Harry now, though none of them looked happy about it. "You're not getting yourself killed, Harry."

"He doesn't even care about me," Harry said, trying to reason with them as his hand inched toward his own wand. "He must know where I am now, and he's not made one attempt to even look in my direction. I could just go to Snape's office-"

Pansy, who had been keeping an eye on the Map, interrupted him. "He's gone in the fourth year boys' dorm, not the third," she reported.

"What the bloody hell is he doing?" Harry cried, frustrated and confused beyond belief. "Why did he go in there?"

"Language, Harry," Pansy chided, still watching the Map. "He's poking around, not even near the beds. There's Hermione's cat, and-"

"What?" Harry dropped back down on the bed and stared at the section of the Map Pansy was indicating in bewilderment.

"There are too many people in that room," Draco noted. "There are only five Gryffindor boys in fourth year, and there are six people in there aside from Black and the cat."

Harry spotted the extra dot almost immediately; it was the only other one moving. When he read the name, his breath caught in his chest.

"Peter Pettigrew?" Blaise asked. "He's not a fourth year. I don't know who he is."

"That can't be right," Harry said softly. "Draco, Pansy, do you know anyone named Peter?"

Draco and Pansy shook their heads. "What's wrong, Harry?" Pansy asked, concerned.

"Peter Pettigrew is supposed to be dead," Harry said, watching closely as Black prowled through the room, clearly looking for something, and Pettigrew skittered around, avoiding his path. Harry wasn't sure how he was keeping hidden. Crookshanks paced by the door, almost as if he was guarding it.

"Hang on, are we talking about the Peter Pettigrew that Black is supposed to have killed? Thirteen years ago?" There was a faint note of incredulity to Draco's voice, and Harry could see why.

"Do you know of any other Peter?" Harry asked. "Seriously, do you? Because I agree that this isn't exactly likely."

They all thought quietly. "Tracy's father's name is Peter," Pansy offered. Then she frowned. "It could be Patrick, actually. I'm not certain. But his last name is Davis, obviously."

"Lupin told me the Map never lies," Harry said. "I got the idea that they had tested it extensively to make sure."

"So what you're saying," Blaise began, "Is that Black didn't break out to do evil, debauched, murderous things at all, but to capture Peter Pettigrew, who he didn't actually kill thirteen years ago."

"He never got a trial," Harry said. "If Pettigrew is alive, then what else do you think they would have found out if they'd given him one?"

"Barnaby Haskins is out of bed," Pansy said suddenly. They all crowded around the Map to watch. "Look, he's up, Black is on the other side of the room. I don't think he sees him."

"Are you kidding me, Haskins?" Draco muttered as the fourth year's dot moved toward the loo. "Sirius bloody Black is standing right behind you and you're going to take a piss?"

"Black couldn't have a wand, could he?" Harry asked, the thought having just occurred to him. They all contemplated this worriedly for a moment, before Blaise noticed something else.

"Look at the Headmaster's office!"

"What?"

"Over here," Blaise said, pointing out several dots converging around a room labelled 'Headmaster's Office'. "Those are all teachers. Something's going on."

"There goes Black," Pansy said, pointing at Gryffindor again. "Probably worried that Haskins is going to come back and see him. The cat stayed though, and Pettigrew is still stuck."

"They must know he's here," Draco said, watching the teachers now. "How do they know he's here?"

Harry thought he might have a good idea. "Where's Ravenclaw Tower?" Harry adjusted the Map until he found what he was looking for. "Look, they're all in their common room." Harry gave his friends a pointed look. "Anthony's snake must have smelled Black too, and  _he_ was actually allowed to leave his dorm to get help."

Pansy rolled her eyes at him. "I'm sure Snape will be here soon, then. You three ought to get back to your dorm, come on. It's nearly two in the morning, I don't need the rumours that will fly if you're all discovered in here."

"But what about Black?" Harry asked. "I want to keep an eye on him and see where he goes."

"We'd better hurry and get you in your room then, hadn't we?" Pansy said, folding the Map up. "How do you make it blank again?"

Harry took it from her and tapped it, muttering. "Mischief Managed."

"Your father might as well have been one of the Weasley twins," Draco commented, taking one of Pansy's arms. Harry took the other, leaving Blaise to wait for the next trip.

"I get the feeling from Lupin's stories that they all four were worse than the Weasley twins," Harry said. Pansy walked them down the hallway and into the empty common room and turned around to get Blaise.

"Merlin, imagine the Weasley twins squared," Draco shuddered as they walked to their own room. "So glad I wasn't born yet."

"I think it would've been fun," Harry said. Draco shook his head.

"You would. The only way that could be fun is if they liked you."

Harry smiled. "Of course they'd like me, I'm directly related. Though it would've been terrible family planning on my parents' part to have had me when they were still in school."

Draco bumped shoulders with him and laughed. "I don't normally have reason to say this, Harry, but you're just weird sometimes."

Back in their room, they immediately climbed into Harry's bed. Draco shut the curtains while Harry pulled out the Map and reactivated it. Blaise and Pansy arrived a moment later, and they spelled the curtains with several privacy charms before they spoke.

"You know, this is no better than us being alone in your room," Draco commented to Pansy as Harry scoured the Map for Black. "In fact, it might be even worse since we're actually in a bed behind privacy charms."

"Black's leaving," Harry said, sitting back against the headboard and letting out a gusty sigh. "Same way he came in, he's already halfway down the passage."

"This Map is incredibly useful," Blaise commented. "We get to know what's going on in the whole castle from the safety of Harry's bed."

"And do absolutely nothing about it, apparently," Harry said, a touch bitterly.

"What would you have done, Harry?" Blaise asked, raising an eyebrow. "I thought Draco was the Gryffindor in this group."

"Is it 'Insult Draco Day' or something, and I missed the flyer?" Draco grumbled, largely ignored by Harry, who was glaring at Blaise, and Blaise, who was staring steadily back. Pansy patted him on the shoulder, but otherwise ignored him as well, watching the other two boys quietly.

"I would have done  _something_ ," Harry said finally. "I would have gotten a teacher, at the very least. Snape's office is right down the hall, nowhere near Gryffindor Tower. I wouldn't have just sat here and watched it all happen."

"Sometimes you can't help, Harry," Blaise said. "Sometimes trying just makes things worse. If you had gone rushing up there and confronted Black, it would have blown up in your face and you would have ended up dead, or at the very least, injured."

"Why couldn't I go get a teacher, then?" Harry challenged. "What giant debacle would have resulted from telling Snape?"

Blaise rolled his eyes. "If we hadn't seen that Anthony had done it already, Pansy or Draco or I could have gone. It didn't  _have_ to be you. It shouldn't be you. You're the only one intimately involved in this, it's not-"

"Shut up, Blaise," Harry said irritably. Blaise set his hands in his lap and watched Harry silently. Harry wiped the Map clean with a tap of his wand, folded it up, and stuck it in his bedside drawer. "Snape is coming," he told Pansy. She nodded, frowning, and slipped through the privacy charms and out the door.

Blaise sat watching Harry for another moment before getting up and going to his own bed. Draco joined Harry leaning against the headboard, and Harry moved over to make room without a sound. Draco sat quietly until Harry finally spoke.

"Blaise is a bastard."

Draco nodded. They sat in silence for a moment more.

"Was he right?"

Draco took a moment to respond, and when he did, he sighed. "He's worried about you, Harry. We all are. A mass murderer breaks out of prison and everyone thinks he's after you, except he doesn't seem to be going after you at all, so he's either crazy or he's got a completely different goal, and no one knows what that is. It's concerning."

Harry nodded grudgingly, but Draco continued.

"You want him to be innocent." It wasn't a question. "And the way he's acting, who knows? But you really want it, Harry. Blaise was worried that you'd go up there and believe the first story he told you, true or not, just because you want to."

"I'm not an idiot, Draco," Harry said wearily.

"We know you're not," Draco assured him. "You might be weird, but you're not stupid."

Harry gave him a small smile and knocked the side of his head against Draco's, just as his curtains rustled and one of the prefects pulled them open.

"Come on, you two, Snape's doing a head count." Snape did this every so often, lining up the students by year to make sure everyone was still there, especially after curfew on Hogsmede weekends. Harry cancelled the privacy charms, which garnered a raised eyebrow from the prefect. He and Draco climbed out of bed and joined their dorm mates in heading down the hall to the common room with the other students, taking their places next to the third year girls. Pansy made eye contact with Harry and raised her eyebrow. He shrugged and rolled his eyes a little.

Snape made his rounds, and found only one student absent, a first year that was soon found sound asleep in his bed, having ignored the prefect's summons. After he took his place in line, Snape stood in front of them and made the announcement.

"It has been brought to the attention of the faculty that Sirius Black is in the castle." No one looked particularly surprised, as it wasn't a Hogsmede weekend and there wasn't much else Snape called these head counts for. "We will not be making our way to the Great Hall, as Professor Dumbledore has decided it is ill advised to have students roaming the corridors with a murderer loose." The touch of sarcasm in Snape's voice when he said this told them what he thought of the idea of moving them in the first place, and whose idea it probably had been to keep them in their houses. "The castle is being searched. None of you is to leave your dormitories until morning; the Bloody Baron will be on patrol. Is that understood? Good. To bed. Mr. Potter, you will see me before you retire."

Harry approached Snape carefully through the throng of grumpy Slytherins making their way back to their beds. "Professor?"

"The faculty was alerted to Black's presence by Anthony Goldstein." Snape's eyes narrowed. "Apparently his snake told him."

Harry bit the inside of his lip where Snape couldn't see and nodded. "Yes sir, he wanted to learn Parseltongue last year. We've been practicing for a while, and he talks to his snake, Douglas, when he's at home and wants to practice without my help."

"I wasn't aware that you were giving out Parseltongue lessons, Mr. Potter," Snape said. "How is it that Mr. Goldstein's snake was able to identify Black's presence in the castle?"

"The last time Black broke in, he was in my cousin's dorm, sir," Harry explained. "Ron Weasley and I are acquaintances, and he let Anthony and I bring our snakes in so that they could identify Black's scent. We told them to warn us if they ever smelled it again, and they did."

"They both did?" Snape questioned with interest. "Why did you not also raise the alarm?"

Harry felt a fresh wave of annoyance at his friends. "I was detained, sir."

"Detained?"

"My friends decided it was in my best interests to stay in the dorm with Black in the castle, as they were worried he was looking for me. They reasoned that if my snake could sense him, then Anthony's could too, and that he would get help."

Snape nodded, apparently satisfied. "Thirty points to Slytherin for assisting another student in alerting the staff of a threat to the school. Ten points for not alerting the staff yourself, and five points each to Mr. Zabini, Miss Parkinson and Mr. Malfoy for attempting to protect another student from harm." Harry blinked. "And detention, Mr. Potter, tomorrow night in my office. That is all."

Snape swept out the door, leaving Harry standing in the middle of the empty common room, staring after him.


	10. The Lessons

"What did you get detention for?" Draco asked as they headed up to breakfast the next morning. Harry shrugged.

"He didn't actually say," he explained. "It was kind of out of nowhere."

When they arrived in the Entrance Hall, Anthony was waiting for them.

"Did your snake sense him too?" he asked immediately, holding up the wrist that Harry knew Douglas preferred.

Harry nodded. "She was very vocal about it." Anthony grinned.

"Mine too, and now the other Ravenclaws have stopped glaring at me when I talk to Douglas in the common room."

"Snape mentioned that you were the one who alerted the teachers," said Harry, nodding. "I, on the other hand, was held at wandpoint and not allowed to tell anyone."

"That's not true at all," Blaise objected. Harry had decided to let the argument rest last night and had told Blaise he was a prat but that he understood why. Blaise had gracefully accepted this wisdom from under three layers of blankets and told Harry to shut up and go to bed. "You could have told the entire castle, if you had wanted. You just would have had to stand in the Slytherin common room and shout really loudly."

"The Slytherins would have heard you, at any rate," Draco agreed. "Probably would have told you to stuff it, but they would have heard you."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Anyway, I have something to tell you later, Anthony, in the library."

Anthony nodded. "Three o'clock?" Harry agreed and they parted ways at the entrance to the Great Hall.

"So does anyone actually know where Black was, or just that he was in the castle?" Harry asked rhetorically.

Pansy's eyes shone with excitement. "If you want, I can have a few rumours going that he was in Gryffindor again, in the fourth year dorm by lunchtime."

Harry grinned. "Can it be common knowledge by dinner?"

Pansy nodded, enthused. "And no one will know where they first heard it."

* * *

When three o'clock finally arrived, Harry made his way to the library, having made a short detour at his dormitory to pick up the Map. At the library, Harry ducked through the doors and gave the room a quick glance. There were few students scattered around at the various tables, most of them upper years. Anthony was at his usual table, Luna Lovegood sitting across from him reading a newspaper with Ravenclawian interest. Harry went over and sat next to her, greeting them each with a smile. He wasn't certain how much he trusted Luna at this point, and he didn't want just anyone knowing about the Map.

"Hello Anthony, hello Luna," he said. Anthony blinked and set his book down, only having just noticed his arrival.

"What was it you wanted to talk about, then?" he asked. Luna murmured a late greeting as well and turned the page. Harry noted that Anthony was glancing surreptitiously at the open book he'd set on the table and wondered what it took, exactly, to get a Ravenclaw's undivided attention. Perhaps if he convinced Hermione to transfigure him into an encyclopaedia.

"I wanted to tell you about what happened last night," Harry said, mentally getting back to the point and lowering his voice. "Black was up in Gryffindor again. He was in the fourth year boys' dormitory this time."

Anthony gave him an interested look. "How do you know? Your snake couldn't possibly have told you all that."

Harry shook his head. "I'll show you later," he said. "But there was someone else there too, named Peter Pettigrew, which is the name of the man that Black is supposed to have killed thirteen years ago."

Anthony's eyebrows shot up. "That's intriguing."

Harry nodded. "Also, Snape mentioned your lessons," he said. "And he gave me detention."

Anthony frowned. "Over the lessons?"

"Actually," Harry said, shrugging, "I'm not really sure. He was awarding points one second and giving me a detention the next. He didn't even say why."

"It was probably nargles," Luna said vaguely. "It is around that time of year."

"What's a nargle?" Harry asked, never having heard of one. Anthony appeared interested in the answer as well, which confused Harry further, as he was usually the only ignorant one when dealing with people that had grown up in the wizarding world.

"Nargles are little creatures that infest mistletoe," Luna informed them, not even glancing up from her paper. "A nargle bite can cause dizziness, irrationality and a lack of inhibition. You want to be careful about standing around underneath mistletoe for too long."

Anthony nodded thoughtfully, and jotted down a note on a piece of parchment next to him.

"Alright," Harry said, blinking. "Well either way, I don't know what the detention is for, but it's tonight."

"You'll find out shortly, then," Anthony said. "Do you think Black's break-in had anything to do with that article of yours?"

Harry bit his lip. The thought had come up. He was just happy he hadn't had Defense today, and so had avoided seeing Professor Lupin's reaction. "Possibly," Harry admitted. "Probably. We wanted a reaction, I suppose, and we got it. I just wish I knew what it meant."

"He seems to have proved your point about the dementors at least," Anthony pointed out. "That's twice he's gotten past them without so much as a fuss."

Harry nodded. "I don't think they'll be around much longer. Pansy said they'll probably be gone by the end of the week."

"The ghosts will be glad," Luna said vaguely. Harry looked over at her again. She had set her paper down on the table and Harry could see that it wasn't the  _Daily Prophet_.

"The ghosts?" he asked, slightly bewildered. "What do they have to do with anything?"

"Well they're not going to have to worry so much, are they?" Luna asked, her protuberant eyes widening. "The Grey Lady told me how she misses her walks on the grounds."

Harry looked at Anthony, who had his eyes cast downward at his book even though his face was pointing at Harry, then back at Luna. "I don't understand," he said finally. "What do the ghosts have to worry about?"

"Well, it's the difference between a wizard eating steak or a live bull, isn't it?" Luna asked rhetorically. "Which would you choose? Someone else has done all the work of preparing the steak. All you have to do is eat it, it's not going to be able to stop you. But if you try to take a bite out of a bull, it's going to be very cross with you. It's unlikely you'll walk away feeling full."

Harry blinked. "I suppose that makes sense."

As Harry worked his mind around Luna's analogy, he noticed Blaise sauntering into the library. He paused, waved at Hermione's regular table, where she was studying with Dudley and Neville, and headed over to where Harry sat.

"Hello Blaise," Anthony said, picking his book back up. Harry rolled his eyes, knowing he had lost Anthony to Blaise's intrusion. Anthony usually figured that Harry didn't need his attention if he had someone else's, especially when he had a book with him. Maybe Draco was right about Ravenclaws, Harry mused as Luna began humming to herself as she flipped through her newspaper.

"Hey Anthony," Blaise responded easily. "Harry, come with me. I've got a idea I think you'll want to be part of."

Harry waved goodbye as they left the table, but aside from a slight tilt of the head that could have been a nod from Anthony, the only reaction to his departure was that Luna began swaying to the song she'd previously only been humming to.

* * *

"What's this idea?" Harry asked as they scaled the steps to the third floor. "I wanted to get some work done before dinner, I've got detention after, you know."

"You'll see in a moment," Blaise said as they rounded a corner. He walked right up to a statue of a rather ugly one eyed witch with a hump. "Here we are."

Harry stared at the statue for a moment, before realizing that he was in the third floor and that the entrance Black had used was likely nearby.

"This is it?" Harry asked. Blaise nodded with a smile. "How did you figure that out?"

"I remembered which corridor it was in, naturally," Blaise said. "And this is the only thing in this area that could possibly conceal a passageway." He frowned. "Not sure how, though. But this has got to be it."

Harry eyed the statue again. "Hang on, let me check the Map."

"Oh good, you've got it with you," Blaise said as Harry pulled it out and cast the spell. He located them standing next to the statue, and sure enough, this was the passage. Harry frowned at the statue again for a moment, and looked down at the Map again.

"There's a little speech bubble," Harry said, peering closely at himself on the Map. "That's amazing, actually. Tap it and say 'dissendium'."

Blaise tried it, and sure enough, the hump opened. It looked like you would have to go down a bit of a slide to get to the actual passage.

"Alright, here's our chance to do something," Blaise said, and Harry glanced at him for his word choice. Blaise had his eyebrows raised expectantly, along with his wand. "Lets make sure he can't get back in this way. Maybe then he won't be able to bypass all the protections on the school and another break-in won't happen."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "I wish I knew how the prefects change passwords," he said, closing up the hump. "I think we should put some kind of alarm on it, though."

Blaise nodded. "And a few nasty jinxes, as well. Maybe some binding charms? Just enough to keep him busy long enough for someone to find him here, especially if he doesn't have a wand."

Harry grinned and rolled up his sleeves. Blaise could be incredibly clever sometimes.

* * *

At exactly eight o'clock that night, Harry knocked on the door to Professor Snape's office, feeling slightly nervous. He could think of a few things Snape might want to talk about, but to be honest, he really didn't have a clue what this was about.

The door opened, and Harry stepped inside to see Snape at his desk, writing something. He waved a distracted hand at a chair, and Harry sat down, waiting silently. When Snape finished a few minutes later, he set his quill down deliberately and looked straight at Harry.

"Imagine my surprise when I heard what you had to say in the Daily Prophet the other day," he said coolly. "What did you mean to accomplish?"

It was strange that Snape would mirror Lupin's words, when he disliked the other professor so much. Harry lifted his head and attempted an explanation.

"We had hoped that if Black thought I was on his side, that maybe he would consent to a trial, sir," Harry said, feeling slightly uncertain. "Pansy and Draco said that he would probably at least consider the idea, and that if I said he was innocent, then people might even believe it. Even if he isn't, he at least wouldn't be loose anymore."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "You did all this on the words of Miss Parkinson and Mr. Malfoy," he stated. When Harry didn't say anything, he continued. "I suppose proclaiming that the dementors are unnecessary was their idea as well?"

"Well," Harry said, "I mean, he's gotten past them twice now. Three times if you count Azkaban. They just don't seem to matter to Black. All they're doing is demoralizing the rest of us, sir."

"A point," Snape allowed, watching Harry. "Mr. Potter, as your Head of House, I ask that you consult me from now on before making the decision to play on your fame. Words cannot describe how foolish this manoeuvre was. Among other things, inviting Rita Skeeter into your life is something I guarantee you will regret." Harry nodded, abashed, and Snape continued, leaning forward across the desk. "Do not make the mistake of thinking that Black is anything other than a criminal. I assure you, he deserved Azkaban."

Harry nodded again and remained silent, staring at the desk. Snape allowed the silence to stretch to the limit of comfort before continuing.

"Now," he said, standing. "I think you would benefit from private tutoring."

Harry's eyes flew up to meet Snape's level gaze with surprise. "Sir?"

Snape raised an eyebrow. "As I am certain you are aware, Mr. Potter, I am a Potions Master."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, nonplussed. He hadn't realized his Potions grade was so bad.

"I also possess many other skills," Snape said. "Defense Against the Dark Arts, for example, is a specialty of mine." He met Harry's eyes directly. "Know thine enemy," he intoned. "I am also quite adept at the Dark Arts." He began to pace purposefully behind his desk. "Duelling, the mind magics, Occulmency and Legilimency. Nonverbal spells are normally taught in the sixth year curriculum. I can have you mute by the end of term."

He stopped and faced Harry. "The animagus transformation," he said, smirking slightly at Harry's wide eyed expression. "It is best to have a mentor to guide you during the process. Some things cannot be learned from a book."

Harry stared, his mind racing at the possibilities. But first.

Snape obviously had something to gain from offering Harry this.

"Anthony checked," Harry said slowly. "There are no books on Parseltongue."

Snape's eyes gleamed.

* * *

"He  _what_?" Draco said again.

"He offered a trade," Harry said, grinning. "I teach him Parseltongue, he teaches me pretty much whatever I want him to. I'm to owl him before Christmas with my decision."

They were walking to Defense. Harry wasn't looking forward to seeing Lupin again, as he felt a bit foolish after Snape's talk, not to mention the fact that as far as Lupin was concerned, he'd been right about Harry waving a flag and encouraging Black to come looking for him in the castle. Pansy's rumours about Gryffindor Tower were still only rumours, after all.

When they arrived, however, it was Professor Snape standing at the head of the class.

* * *

"A roll of parchment on the identification and destruction of werewolves?" Harry repeated incredulously, once they were safely out of earshot of the Defense room. "When did we start learning about werewolves? I thought we were on hinkypunks!"

Pansy raised an eyebrow. "Were you going to say something, Harry? Because I thought one detention with Snape this year was enough for you. Did you see the look on his face?"

"He was making a point," Blaise said. "I don't know what his point was, but he was certainly making one."

"Probably that Lupin's a bad teacher and that learning about hinkypunks is useless," Draco said. Harry glared at him, and he raised his hands defensively. "What? That's what he probably thinks, not me!"

Harry glared for another moment before drooping slightly. "You don't think Lupin missed class because of Black's break-in, do you?"

"I doubt it, Harry," Pansy said comfortingly. "I don't think Lupin would miss class unless he was actually sick. He's not the type."

"It is getting nasty out there," Draco said, nodding his head at a window nearby. The snow was thick enough that all Harry could see was white.

"I can't wait until break," Pansy said, wrinkling her nose at the sight. "I'm going to Greece to visit family. It'll be nice there, at least."

"I'm just going to stay in the Manor for most of the holiday, I think," Draco said. "All this weather is just bothersome."

"What're you doing, Harry?" Blaise asked. "Going home with your cousin?"

"Yeah," Harry said, nodding. "I'm going to actually play in the snow," he said, smirking at Draco and Pansy. "You know, snowmen, igloos, all that fun  _winter_  stuff you do when it's  _winter_. I'm not going to flee from the weather."

Pansy shuddered delicately. "Suit yourself, Harry. Personally, I'm going to say 'I told you so' when we all end up spending Christmas at your funeral because they found your cold, dead, frostbitten carcass in some snowbank on the side of the road."

"Is that a threat, Pansy?" Harry asked, grinning at her description.

"Possibly," she said. "I did call your death, after all."

"Sirius Black and Mia don't know what they're up against," Blaise agreed, his face a serious mask.

All three of them stared at him blankly for about three seconds, then Harry burst into laughter along with Pansy. Draco grimaced as though he was trying very hard not to smile.

"Go on, Draco," Blaise said, grinning. "You know you think it's funny. My comic genius astounds you."

"Genius is probably not the best choice of words," Draco shot back, but he was grinning now. "Failure, maybe? Although it does astound me, I admit. I thought you said Ian, anyway?"

Harry shook his head. "Ian would only work if he had an extra 'n' somewhere."

Blaise deliberated this for a moment. "Tomn," he said. "The n is silent. T-O-M-N."

"No," Pansy waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. "Because you'd still have that extra 'm' in there. It would have to be Ton. Or Not. His name could be Not Marvolo Riddle."

"Am I the only one who thinks this is a bit blasphemous?" Draco muttered, sticking his hands in his robe pockets.

"Yes," Pansy said without hesitation. "He's no god, Draco. He's dead."

Draco gave her a skeptical look, though he offered up a suggestion of his own. "Rot Varnolo Middle?"


	11. The Holiday

"I still don't understand why we need to take pictures of every snowman," Dudley said.

He and Harry were at the park in Little Whinging, and Harry was posing proudly next to a snowman that was taller than him by at least two feet. As the only two people willing to venture out since the blizzard last night, they were taking full advantage of all the untouched snow by building as many snowmen as possible.

"I'm making a point, Dudley," Harry explained, patting the snowman, which teetered dangerously. "Pansy and Draco are going to see what they're missing out on, hiding from the winter."

Dudley rolled his eyes and snapped the picture. "Why are we using a muggle camera, though?"

Harry backed quickly away from the snowman in case it fell. "Two reasons," he explained, jumping into a deep patch of untouched snow and sinking up to his knees. "The first is that I forgot to buy one when we went to Diagon Alley before Christmas." He stretched his arms out above his head and fell onto his back. Dudley walked over and took another picture, at which Harry stuck out his tongue.

"And the other reason?" Dudley asked, setting the camera on top of Harry's bag where it lay nearby. He joined Harry in the drift as the snowman collapsed to the ground.

"The other reason," Harry said as they waved their arms languidly, making snow angels, "Is that I don't think Pansy has ever really seen a muggle picture before, and I think it'd be funny to see her reaction."

Dudley snickered. "Oh no!" he said in a high pitched voice. "The poor little people aren't moving! Are they dead?"

"What have you done to them?" Harry added in a similarly high voice, laughing outright. "Did you petrify them?"

After a short while, they got up and admired their imprints in the snow. They were nearly identical, though Dudley's was a bit bigger and Harry's had large holes in it's legs where he had been standing. Harry grabbed the camera and took a picture of them as well.

Uncle Vernon was taking them to Diagon Alley later, once he got back from work. They planned to meet Neville and Anthony there. Dudley was going to spend the rest of the break with Neville, Harry with Anthony, and Uncle Vernon with Aunt Marge, who was coming up to visit tomorrow. It all worked out extremely well, in Harry's opinion, but then again, a lot of things had been working out well lately, except for that last snowman. Harry exchanged actual presents with Uncle Vernon this year, for example. (Uncle Vernon had gotten him an obnoxious red and gold Christmas sweater, but Harry figured it was the thought that counted.)

The Dementors had been removed from Hogwarts after much debate directly before break started, which meant that Harry had not been required to pass them on the way to the train, and the trip home had been decent. The traps in the secret passage at Hogwarts had not been triggered yet, either. And Harry was spending the rest of the holiday with Anthony, whom he was hoping would help him explore some of the features of the Marauder's Map that Harry still had yet to work out. There were things about the Map that Harry didn't know, he was sure of it.

"Harry," Dudley called, and a snowball whacked Harry in the head as he turned. Harry dove behind a snow bank with a yell and prepared his own ammunition. Dudley already had a handful, and Harry refused to be ambushed. The next snowball sailed past Harry's faux-fort and hit Uncle Vernon's car.

Harry poked his head out from behind the snow bank warily. Uncle Vernon climbed out of the car and promptly had to duck.

"Dudley!"

"Sorry, dad." He sounded anything but. Harry grinned.

"Are you two ready to go?" Uncle Vernon asked, watching Dudley suspiciously. Dudley nodded and let the snowballs in his arms fall as he picked up Harry's bag, which held both his and Harry's trunks inside Harry's little box of wizard space.

"Let's go," he said. Harry held his position until Dudley had his back turned and Harry felt he had a sporting chance of hitting him in the back of the head. He let fly his ammo, and his aim was true.

* * *

"l still think you're a sneak," Dudley grumbled as they waited for Anthony to arrive.

"Slytherin, remember?" Harry shrugged. "It's my nature."

Dudley rolled his eyes and glanced at Neville, who had arrived at the Leaky Cauldron by floo a few minutes ago.

"Can't trust a Slytherin," he muttered, nudging Neville with his elbow. Harry raised his eyebrow and took offense.

"'Course you can trust me, Dudders," he said with a sweet smile. "I mean, who made us breakfast this morning? If you're not worried that I might have spiked your oatmeal with, say, one or two or those Zonko's products you left in the bottom left drawer of your desk, then I don't think we have to worry about trust issues."

Dudley blanched, and gave Harry, who was grinning innocently at him, a worried look. Neville snickered and waved at someone behind Harry.

It was Anthony. "Hello," he said, nodding at Dudley and Neville. He turned to Harry. "Ready to go?"

"We'll see you at school, Harry," Neville said, tugging a now suspicious Dudley to his feet and hefting one end of Dudley's trunk. Harry waved at them and left with Anthony.

"Have you ever ridden on the Knight Bus?" Anthony asked as they left the Leaky Cauldron. Harry shook his head and eyed the large, violently purple bus waiting for them. There was a brown haired woman standing in the door.

"You'll be Harry then?" she asked, stepping aside so they could enter. Harry nodded and stepped up into the bus behind Anthony, noting with some worry the thick glasses worn by the bus driver. "I am Anthony's mother, Madeline Goldstein," said the brown haired woman as she led him through the bus. "You may call me Madeline, or 'Excuse Me, Ma'am', if you are uncomfortable with using my given name. Asking for a 'Mrs. Goldstein' will give you the attention of my mother-in-law's eccentric ghost while you remain on the property, so I suggest you avoid it."

She was interrupted at this point by a pimply boy in a purple cap which matched the bus. "Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency-"

"We don't need the speech, thank you," Madeline said curtly. She led Harry and Anthony over to a grouping of armchairs at the back of the bus. "Trust me, it's best if you have two walls to brace against for the first trip," she assured Harry, seating him in the corner.

Harry sat, setting his bag down beside him. The boy, who seemed to be the conductor, looked rather put out at his dismissal and went back to the front of the bus.

"Of course, I've paid your fare," Anthony's mother said in a matter of fact tone, placing her feet firmly on the ground. "You might want to pick up your bag."

Harry reached down to pull it into his lap, but the bus lurched forward very suddenly and nearly threw him out of his chair. Anthony caught the bag by the strap with his foot, though he didn't make the same mistake Harry did of leaning forward to pick it up.

"We take the Knight Bus a lot," Anthony said. "It's an interesting way to get around. Useful, too. You can hail it anywhere, it's rather like finding a muggle taxi, I believe. You just hold up your wand hand and it'll show up."

Harry nodded and felt grateful for being in a corner. The three of them discussed the differences between muggle taxis and the Knight Bus for a few minutes, until Anthony and his mother seemed to tire of the topic and decided to drift out of the conversation simultaneously. This meant that Harry, who had only been participating through nods and various thoughtful noises up to this point, was suddenly the only person paying any attention at all.

He looked back and forth between them, confused. Anthony was staring aimlessly out a window, and his mother had taken up an absentminded sort of interest in the upholstery of the armchair next to Harry's.

Good to know where Anthony got his scintillating personality, then.

* * *

The Goldstein's house was in an area that was part-Muggle, part-wizarding, and it was fairly large. Anthony had initially told him that there were only three bedrooms: one for his parents, one for Anthony, and the guest bedroom where Harry would be staying.

Harry soon realized that while this wasn't a lie, it was certainly not accurate. There were, in fact, six rooms that were meant to be bedrooms. The other three rooms had been converted to libraries, and each member of the family had their own.

"My family has been in Ravenclaw for the past four generations on both sides," Anthony told Harry promptly when asked. "Why?"

On the first morning Harry spent at the Goldsteins, he woke to silence. After showering and dressing, he set off in search of the kitchen and found it empty. All the other rooms on the first floor were in the same state. Harry assumed that everyone was still asleep, and settled down in the living room to wait.

After about a half an hour, Anthony's father appeared on the stairs. He was a tall man with dark hair and a book shaped face. Where his nose usually would have been were the words,  _Phantasmagoria: The Logic of the Imaginary_. He disappeared into the kitchen, and Harry quickly followed, hoping that maybe food would appear now that someone was awake.

Harry watched, impressed, as Anthony's father made himself a very elaborate sandwich without ever looking up from his book. Unfortunately, this meant he didn't see Harry, and so Harry decided to speak up.

"Erm, excuse me," he said, hopeful. Anthony's father started and nearly dropped his sandwich.

"Oh, yes, Anthony's friend." He looked Harry with curious eyes as he took a bite of his sandwich. "And how are you enjoying our home?"

"It's very nice," Harry said, and decided that perhaps he would have to treat Anthony's parents the way he treated Anthony. Being blunt was key. "I was wondering what I should eat for breakfast."

Anthony's father looked surprised. "Is it breakfast time?" he glanced at a clock on the wall, and his expression switched to one of mild alarm. "Oh, dear, I've gotten the sandwich all wrong. It's meant to be egg before noon. Madeline will not be impressed." He turned to leave the kitchen again, taking a much larger bite out of his sandwich. "Have whatever you want," he told Harry as the door swung shut behind him.

Harry stood alone in the middle of the kitchen. There was no refrigerator. No stove. The Goldsteins did not have house elves. Harry was at a loss. He eventually gave up when a search of the cabinet Mr. Goldstein had procured his sandwich from produced nothing but dishes and cutlery.

"Anthony?" Harry knocked on Anthony's bedroom door, feeling guilty but hungry. "Are you awake?"

After about a minute of silence, Harry poked his head in and found that Anthony's bed was empty. His jaw dropped.

"You have got to be kidding me," he muttered to himself as he crossed the hall to Anthony's other room. "Hello?" he asked, sticking his head inside and finding Anthony at last, curled up in a chair, reading. Anthony's head came up at Harry's arrival, though his eyes stayed on the book. He did that a lot.

"Good morning," he remarked, turning a page. Harry sighed and walked further into the room, inspecting it. It was a library, of that there was no doubt. Every available surface housed books, and many, many more floated above their heads in lieu of a ceiling, spines facing downward for easy perusal. Presumably Anthony used a summoning charm when he wanted one. "I got quite a few of these after second year," Anthony said, having noticed Harry's attention on the books. "Those basilisk parts went for a good amount. You're up late."

"I've been up for a few hours now," Harry said, sitting down. "I've spent most of the morning searching fruitlessly for food. You?"

"There's fruit in the kitchen," Anthony told him. "It's all in the pantry. The door has a little painting of food on it. You can't miss it."

Harry blinked. "You mean that wall shaped area? With the leaves in the picture?"

"They're not leaves, they're spinach."

Harry gaped at him. "I'm going to go eat," he said finally. "Do you want something?"

Anthony checked his watch. "An egg sandwich, if you don't mind," he said, and went back to his book.

* * *

Harry found out about the Sandwich Rule that day. Everyone had to eat at least once every eight hours, and depending on the time, a certain type of sandwich was required if they were too busy to make real food.

There was very little to eat aside from sandwiches. The Goldsteins were busy people. They did not, as a rule, have sit down meals. There wasn't even a table, though there were a few chairs by one of the countertops. The family sometimes crossed paths in the kitchen, and Madeline apparently had a charm on the door that alerted her if one of them had not been to visit for food in the past twenty-four hours, but otherwise, they rarely saw each other.

"Mum likes to make sure we don't die of forgetfulness," Anthony told Harry one day as they made themselves lunch. Harry had a secret plan to drag Anthony outside afterward, as he had discovered that the Goldsteins actually had quite a bit of land, including a decent sized copse of trees that was the perfect cover for a bit of flying.

"That's good of her," Harry said as he ate his treacle tart sandwich. In the morning, it was required that the sandwich involve some kind of breakfast food, but lunchtime sandwiches could be filled with anything, and Harry had shamelessly taken advantage. "You know what I haven't seen in a while?"

Anthony looked at him curiously. "Hogwarts?" he guessed gamely. "Er, green grass?"

Harry grinned. "The sky," he said, giving Anthony a significant look. "We haven't gone outside once since I got here."

Anthony looked perplexed now. "But that wasn't even a week ago."

"Anthony, I like to go outside more than once a week," Harry said dryly. "In fact, sometimes I do it three, even four times a day. Strange, I know. And I found your broomsticks in the hall closet. Let's go flying."

"I have broomsticks?" Anthony asked, mystified, as Harry tugged him gently upstairs to put on their coats and scarves. "What were you doing in the hall closet?"

"I was bored. I never denied being nosy," Harry said, rolling his eyes and redirecting Anthony when he started to veer absently toward his library. "And your grandmother's ghost told me she bought them for you before she died, and you never used them. What kind of a grandson are you?"

Anthony followed Harry outside with little complaint, and Harry considered that Anthony was a fairly good friend, all things considered. He clearly didn't bother with brooms as a general rule, and Harry spent the first hour teaching him how to control the broom so that he didn't go careening off into the ether, but he was trying, and that was good enough for Harry.

* * *

The time came to take the train back to Hogwarts. Harry showed Pansy the muggle pictures he'd taken with Dudley, and a few of the moving pictures he'd managed to get at Anthony's, when they actually left the house. She shuddered, looked properly alarmed at the muggle pictures, told Harry he was mad, and pushed the pictures over to Draco with a moue of distaste.

Draco flipped through them and laughed at several. "Tell me that snowman fell on you," he begged, grinning up at Harry. "Tell me he took the picture and it collapsed a second later, and that they had to mount a rescue mission."

"Don't you think Dudley would have taken pictures of that, too?" Harry asked, laughing. "There wouldn't have been a rescue mission until he'd stood around for half an hour, cataloguing my embarrassment."

Draco sighed. "True. Damn."

They didn't go back to Slytherin until after dinner, and as they were all tired from the trip, they went straight up to the dormitory to get ready for bed. Harry was in the bathroom, brushing his teeth and thinking about how nice the ride to Hogwarts had been without all the dementors, when Blaise spoke up.

"Hey, Harry, one of your presents got left here," he said, jerking his chin at Harry's bed as he changed into his pyjamas.

Harry finished brushing his teeth and went to investigate. He pulled his bed curtains open and discovered a long, thin package, just as Blaise had said.

"Who's it from?" Draco asked as Harry opened it. "Harry?"

Harry sat on his bed, jaw on the floor, staring dazedly at the Firebolt.

Draco glanced over, frowning, and dropped the slippers he was holding. "Merlin," he breathed, dropping to his knees next to Harry's bed. Harry dimly noted that he looked like he was about to say his bedtime prayers. The analogy seemed relevant, as Harry was perfectly willing to worship this beautiful broom.

They both stared in awe for a few silent moments. "Who sent it?" Draco finally asked in hushed tones. Harry shook his head and pulled his eyes away from the Firebolt to check the wrappings. Professional Quidditch players could only  _dream_ of having a broom like this, that was how  _new_  and  _amazing_  and  _obnoxiously expensive_ it was. Draco may have talked his father down from buying the whole Slytherin team Firebolts, but Harry didn't doubt that his father had been secretly relieved. Seven of these would put a serious dent in even the Malfoy vaults.

Blaise leaned against Harry's bedpost to see what all the fuss was about. He raised his eyebrow at the broom, clearly impressed. "Who sent it, then?" he asked, repeating Draco's question.

Harry shook himself and looked down at the wrappings, finally registering that there was no note.

"Anonymous fan?" he asked, giving Blaise a winning smile. Blaise's face darkened alarmingly.

"Anonymous enemy seems more realistic," he said. Harry had hoped he wouldn't go there. "Anonymous Sirius Black, maybe."

Draco's face fell, and he finally looked away from the broom. "You don't think-"

"He does," Harry said. He was pouting and he knew it, but he couldn't seem to stop. Blaise shrugged helplessly.

"I'm sorry, Harry," he said, and to his credit, he did sound sorry. "At the very least, we should tell Professor Snape about this. If there's any way that you can keep the broom, he'll find it."

Harry's shoulders were slumped, but he nodded. "I hate you," he told Blaise, staring longingly at the Firebolt. Blaise grinned.

"I know. I'm a vile bastard."

* * *

Harry brought his new broom to Snape's office the next morning. He was supposed to go anyway, to discuss their arrangement. Draco tagged along as moral support.

"It'll be a crime if you don't get it back," he said, petting the handle every now and again. Harry would have questioned whether Draco remembered he was there, if not for the fact that Draco was actually speaking to him.

Snape answered the door of his office, his eyes narrowing at the sight of Draco at Harry's side, saying goodbye to the broom.

"I'll miss you," he said as Harry stepped past Snape and into the office. Harry didn't have any delusions that Draco was actually talking to him.

"I got this for Christmas," Harry explained before Snape could ask. "It didn't come to my house. I found it on my bed when we got back last night, and there was no note."

Snape's eyes narrowed immediately. "You suspect Black?" Harry nodded unwillingly. Snape took the broom from him and examined it carefully. "I will check the broom for tampering," he told Harry. "You will have it back in top condition in three weeks."

Harry grinned. That gave him enough time to get used to it before the Slytherin/Ravenclaw match. "Thank you, sir," he said emphatically. Snape placed the broom carefully on his desk and indicated that Harry sit.

"You wish to learn duelling and nonverbal spells."

"Yes, sir." The idea of being able to jinx Draco and blame it on Blaise was too perfect to pass up. Also, it was a useful skill. Right.

Snape looked at Harry for a long moment. Harry tried not to break eye contact. A flicker of something passed over Snape's face, and he nodded.

"Very well. We will begin with duelling." Snape handed Harry a timesheet very similar to the one he had received at the beginning of the year. "We will meet directly after Potions on Thursdays and on Mondays at six o'clock." Harry nodded, looking forward to Thursday.

"Yes, sir."


	12. The Creature

Filch had asked Harry to take care of the seventh floor today. He was enjoying making the Gryffindors suspicious while he nonchalantly polished the portrait frames near the entrance to their Tower. A few came out and asked him what he was doing. They didn't believe him when he told them he was cleaning.

This was probably because of the whistling. No innocent Slytherin had ever whistled innocently, and they certainly didn't stop and lean in slightly when a Gryffindor was about to say the password to the Tower.

There were perks to working for Filch, and fun like this was one of them. Harry eventually moved to another part of the floor when Ron and Dudley showed up. Ron's ears turned red; a sure sign of danger, and Dudley gave Harry a suspicious glare. Harry had been on Dudley's good side at Hogwarts for the most part, but despite Hermione's managing of him and despite his lack of practice, Harry didn't doubt that Dudley could still throw a good punch. Defending the fortress was just the sort of excuse he could get away with, too.

Harry wasn't using many cleaning spells today. They were all well and good, usually, but sometimes you just had to scrub something clean, and when Filch always seemed more cheerful when he realised Harry had been cleaning by hand. A few of the frames on this floor looked like they hadn't been touched in years, and Harry had nothing better to do anyway, aside from homework.

According to Filch, there were broom closets on each floor filled to the brim with cleaning supplies, and apparently one of the closets on this floor had a powerful replenishing charm on it, if Harry could only find it. Filch had said it was near the troll-ballet tapestry, but Harry hadn't seen a closet, and he'd been through the hall several times.

Oh wait. There it was.

* * *

" _He smells like death._ "

"What is it saying?"

"Er, hang on.  _He won't hurt you, I promise._ "

" _Of course he won't hurt me. I will bite him if he comes near me._ "

" _That's really not necessary. I think-_ "

"Potter. What is the snake saying?" Snape glared between Harry and the snake. Snape had ordered it on Harry's advice, but it didn't want to cooperate. "In order for learning to occur, you must first translate."

Harry nodded, exasperated. "I know, but. Well. He doesn't like you." Snape raised an eyebrow at Harry, who shrugged. "He says you smell like death."

Harry had spent hours with Anthony, putting together some kind of lesson plan for Snape, and the snake was ruining it all by being uncooperative. The spell Anthony gave him that actually allowed humans to speak languages not suited to their vocal cords (similar to an all purpose translation spell in that it didn't matter what you were trying to speak as long as you knew) was nonverbal and long. Harry was mildly jealous that Anthony already knew a few nonverbal spells, and questioned him extensively about it. He had not been able to perform the spell himself, but he had no doubt of Snape's abilities. If only they could get that far.

Snape closed his eyes for a moment, lips pressed tightly together, and raised his wand to cast a purifying charm over his person. "Is that better?" he asked the snake. Harry translated.

" _He no longer smells,_ " the snake confirmed. Harry nodded to Snape, relieved. " _That does not mean that he did not already smell like death. I do not trust him._ "

Harry sighed. "Maybe we should switch Parseltongue to Monday, so that you don't smell like Potions ingredients while you talk to him."

* * *

"Potter! How many times must I tell you to cease flinging yourself about my office?"

Harry pulled himself to his feet, panting. He had jumped out of the way of a curse, and despite Snape's admonition, it was a difficult curse to avoid and he was proud of himself for evading it. Snape narrowed his eyes at Harry's unapologetic demeanour.

" _Impedimentia_ ," he cast, and when Harry dodged out of the way, " _Glacialis solum_."

Harry slipped on the newly formed ice and fell flat on his back with a yelp. Snape stood over him, eyes gleaming.

"Desist flinging yourself about my office," he enunciated, and then he showed Harry the summoning charm and conjured up several rocks for Harry to practice blocking with.

* * *

The mail order snake was gone; in his place a cobra eyed Harry suspiciously. Harry eyed it right back.

"Where did the other snake go?"

Snape ran a hand down the polished scales of his new cobra. "It tried to bite me." He looked up at Harry, dark eyes narrowed with darker amusement. "The hospital wing has a fresh batch of boil ointment and bruise salve."

Harry blinked several times and tried not to feel horrified at the thought of a snake he'd spoken to just last week being chopped up for potions ingredients. "Erm, right," he said. "Let me just explain to this one what we're trying to do, then."

" _Hello,_ " he hissed. The snake shifted slightly.

" _Good evening,_ " she answered. " _Do you want something?_ "

" _Yes_ ," Harry told her. " _I'd like you to help me teach the dark man your language._ "

The cobra blinked lazily at Snape. " _Inform him that I will agree if he tells me what it is he was feeding me earlier._ "

Harry paused. "What were you feeding her earlier?" he asked. Snape had been watching them intently, and stood, reaching for the shelf behind him. "Chopped goat spleen," he said, showing the snake the jar he'd selected. Harry grimaced slightly and translated this.

"She says to keep them coming," he said, and tried very hard to keep his dinner down when Snape opened the jar and selected another piece.

"First lesson," Harry said, covering his nose surreptitiously. "Food. It's rather important. Repeat after me..."

* * *

Harry's new Firebolt was waiting for him at his third duelling lesson with Snape.

"It's alright, then?" he asked, examining it with excitement. It looked as good as it had when he first unwrapped it.

"We found no sabotage," Snape said, watching him run awed hands over the broom. "After much discussion with the staff, it was decided that you must have a very good friend somewhere. I would suggest you keep an eye out for possible admirers with the gold to fund such a gift. It does not do to be unaware of your beneficiaries."

Harry nodded, and nearly jumped out of his skin at the curse that came flying his way a second later. He parried the attack and glared at Snape with all his might.

"You must be prepared to protect more than yourself," said Snape ruthlessly as he continued his attempt to inflict damage on Harry's new broom. "Keep in mind the Slytherin-Ravenclaw match that approaches. Mine will not be the only displeasure you will face if you allow that broom to come to harm."

__

* * *

 

Fortunately, Harry held his own against Snape, the git, and the Slytherin-Ravenclaw match went off without a hitch. The other seeker, a girl named Cho Chang, didn't quite know how to deal with Harry on a Firebolt. They won by a landslide.

January faded into February, which faded into March. As the weather got warmer, students celebrated the absence of the chill from both dementors and snow by going outside more often. Harry and Hermione were no different, as Harry had convinced her to visit Hagrid with him. Draco, who had been Harry's first choice, had seemed leery of the idea when Harry asked.

"Are you insane?" he had said. "Do  _I_  look insane? Now go away. I have a very important Charms essay due tomorrow."

He had been playing Exploding Snap with Blaise at the time. Harry had taken the hint. He'd been meaning to talk to Hermione lately, anyway.

"You look exhausted," he commented as they strolled past the Quidditch pitch. Bright yellow dots zoomed around above their heads and Hermione rubbed at her eyes distractedly.

"I'm alright," she said. "I just need to get back into the swing of things again. Christmas threw me off."

Harry watched her with worry. "Hermione, we've been back at school for months. How many of you are there right now, anyway?"

"Just the one," she said, giving him a faint smile. "I really only use it for classes. Otherwise I'd be sixteen before fourth year."

Harry cocked his head, curious. "How old are you now, anyway?"

She bit her lip, apparently doing complicated maths in her head.

"Not much older," she said after a moment. "Maybe a few weeks by now. Like I said, I only use it for classes, and that's only a few hours a day, and then only on weekdays."

"Huh," Harry said, and they walked in silence for a few moments. "In that case, maybe you should add an extra hour a day. You know, for a nap."

Hermione looked at him askance. "I couldn't do that! I don't have it so I can skive off and nap!"

Harry shrugged. If he was talking to Pansy, Harry could say a few choice words about her new stress lines (saying the word 'wrinkles' would have Pansy throwing him off the Astronomy Tower for real, never mind that she was only thirteen) and all would be well. But then, Hermione wasn't as girly as Pansy.

He would try anyway.

"The stress is aging you more than the time is," he said, indicating the bags under her eyes. "You don't have it to drive you into an early grave, either. A nap every now and again wouldn't hurt."

Hermione sighed. They had reached Hagrid's hut now, and were standing in front of his door, talking. "I suppose you might be right," she said, reluctance in her every movement. Harry grinned. It wasn't often that he heard those words coming from Hermione Granger. This moment was a thing to savour.

__

* * *

 

Harry and his friends were relaxing in the common room one night when it happened. Blaise's head jerked up and they stared at each other for a moment.

"The alarms," Harry breathed, and dashed up to his room in an instant, Blaise directly behind him. They pulled out the Map and Harry tapped his wand against it.

"Sirius Black," he said. He and Anthony had taken some time to look over the Map that Christmas, and had discovered a feature that allowed you to locate someone by simply telling the Map who you were looking for. It was incredibly useful, especially in situations like these.

Except when it didn't work.

"Sirius Black," he repeated with more force, looking down at the Map expectantly. Nothing happened.

"Never mind that, Harry, he may have a way to block it," Blaise said. "We know where he should be, anyway." They located the statue of the hump-backed witch, but Sirius Black was nowhere in sight. The alarms had been tripped accidentally before, usually by the Weasley twins, but Harry had not seen this name since the last Black break in.

 _Peter Pettigrew_.

"We have to-"

"Get Snape." Blaise said firmly. They had a short staring contest, but standing there uselessly made Harry feel like there were centipedes crawling up his spine. He gave in almost immediately.

"Yes, alright, fine," Harry said from between gritted teeth. "But we're not telling him about the Map."

"The alarms and your snake will do just fine," Blaise said, sweeping out of the room. Harry followed quickly, ignoring Draco and Pansy's questions as they passed through the common room. They could be filled in later. Right now, time was of the essence, lest Pettigrew get away.

* * *

"If you have dragged me from my work," Snape warned, his entire manner foreboding as they made their way toward the third floor. "If you have dragged me all the way up here only to find some idiotic student caught in your traps, there will be dire punishment. Do you understand, Mr. Potter? Mr. Zabini?"

They both nodded and Harry hoped with all his might that Pettigrew had not already escaped. He'd brought his snake with him to corroborate the story, and as they neared the corridor where the statue stood, Harry hissed a question to her.

" _Is he still there?_ "

" _The creature has not left,_ " she confirmed. She had called Pettigrew 'the creature' every time Harry asked so far.

They reached a bend in the corridor very near the statue, and Snape stopped them. "Wait here," he demanded, and pulled out his wand as he stepped around the corner.

Naturally, Harry and Blaise poked their heads around to watch behind his back.

The struggling figure froze when Snape appeared, only to begin struggling all the more fiercely a second later. Snape had frozen as well, his wand faltering for just a moment.

It was a moment too long. Pettigrew's struggles were born of more than just fear. There was a wand on the floor near his hands, and when he finally managed to grasp it, he vanished almost immediately.

Harry clamped a hand over his own mouth to keep from shouting. Pettigrew transformed into a rat and took off down the corridor, dodging Snape's snarled curses and managing to escape through a crack in the wall.

Snape was even less pleased with this development than Harry was. He swore fiercely, turning on his heel and marching down the hall. Blaise made eye contact with Harry, eyes wide, and they hurried to keep up with him. Snape continued swearing with virulent anger all the way to what turned out to be Professor Lupin's office.

His banging brought Lupin out into the corridor in moments, and Snape marched right past him, where he stood in the middle of the office with an expression so ugly that Harry was surprised when Lupin allowed them entrance as well.

"Peter Pettigrew was a rat animagus," he spat, once Lupin had closed the door and given Snape his full, alarmed attention. This pronouncement caused yet more alarm on Lupin's features, and he nodded.

"Yes," he said, brow furrowed. "What has happened, Severus?"

"He's not dead," Snape snarled. "You don't seem particularly surprised. Perhaps we should discuss the situation further with the Headmaster."

Despite what Snape claimed, as far as Harry was concerned, Lupin looked like he was about to pass out from shock.

"Not...not dead?" he repeated faintly as Snape crossed the room and held open the door expectantly. "What...how? How do you know?"

"I saw him," Snape said coldly, still waiting for Lupin to move. "Next to the statue of the hump-backed witch. A secret passage, as I'm certain you're aware? I suggest we find out what Albus thinks of this situation."

He held the door open wider for Lupin, who finally moved. Harry and Blaise followed. Harry, at least, was determined to be involved until he was told to go away.

The shock wore off on the way to Dumbledore's office, and something finally occurred to Harry. " _The creature lives in the dormitory I had you investigate, doesn't it?_ " he asked his snake. The snake responded in the affirmative, and Snape paused in giving the password to Dumbledore's office.

"What did you just ask it?" he inquired, watching Harry with angry eyes. Harry was aware that Snape wasn't angry at him, but it was still intimidating to be under that stare. He answered quickly. "Pettigrew has been living with the Weasleys. He was Ron's pet rat. He's been living in Ron's dorm; my snake recognised the scent."

Lupin made a horrified sound, muffled by his hand.

"Liquorice wands," Snape said, ignoring Lupin. The gargoyle sprang aside and they soon arrived in Dumbledore's office.

Snape explained the situation to a grave Dumbledore, and Lupin listened with horror. Harry felt incredibly bad for him, especially when Snape suggested that all three of the old Marauders were conspiring together, and Lupin was the inside man. It was this accusation that finally spurred Lupin out of his silence.

"That's absurd," he snapped, and then proceeded to ignore Snape entirely. "Professor Dumbledore," he said. "If Peter is still alive, that sheds doubt on Sirius' guilt."

Harry noted that this was the first time he'd ever heard Lupin refer to his old friend as anything but 'Black'. Dumbledore's nod was sombre.

"That is something to consider," he agreed. "And you were aware, Remus, of Peter's animagus form?"

Lupin looked down at his feet, shamed. Harry found it fascinating that Dumbledore could cause that reaction in people that caused the same reaction in Harry. The headmaster clearly was not to be trifled with.

"They were all animagi," Lupin admitted. "Peter was a rat, James was a stag, and Sirius was a dog."

Harry knew Lupin had said something important after 'James was a stag', but he didn't care. He was too busy imagining his father as a  _stag_. Pettigrew was clearly Wormtail, and James couldn't have been Padfoot as a stag. Which meant Harry's father must have been Prongs.

"How interesting that you have kept this pertinent information to yourself this entire time, Lupin," Snape said dangerously. "Had someone known of Pettigrew's form, never mind  _Black's_ , perhaps he would have been caught much sooner than this, don't you agree?"

Dumbledore held up a hand. Snape paused in his accusations and waited as Dumbledore considered Harry and Blaise. "Before we continue this conversation, I must ask," he said. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Zabini. Why is it that you felt the need to lay traps around that particular statue?"

"We..." Harry said, flustered at the unexpected question and trying to hide it. He did  _not_  want to give away the existence of the Map. "We knew Black had broken in, and we knew Filch wasn't aware of that particular passage. He was watching everywhere else."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Far be it from you to inform Filch of a secret passage," he said, sounding amused. "I will speak to Mr. Weasley in the morning. In the meantime, why don't you boys head back to your common room? Curfew is nearly upon us."

And with that, Harry and Blaise were ushered unceremoniously out of the office.


	13. The Rationality

The next morning, Snape called Harry into his office. "The time has come for direct action," he told Harry, who was still half asleep. He and Blaise spent most of the night before explaining what happened to Draco and Pansy, who were miffed that they had been left in the common room during all the excitement. Well, Draco was miffed, anyway.

Harry managed to rouse himself at this declaration, and eyed Snape inquisitively. "Sir?"

"Dumbledore has made plans for the apprehension and capture of both Black and Pettigrew," Snape elaborated. "These plans consist mainly of wards around the castle and grounds."

Harry nodded, wondering why he was being told all this. Snape wasn't usually this forthcoming without a reason. Sure enough, Snape's next words gave Harry a clue.

"That is not enough," he said. "Your snake has a scent memory of both Black and Pettigrew. Mine has the ability to fell both of them without damaging their ability to stand trial."

Harry eyed the cobra resting on the desk next to him.

"Cobras are venomous, sir," he said slowly. This particular cobra had spent an entire Parseltongue session telling Harry exactly how he would die should she choose to bite him. Snape had forced him to translate the whole thing, and in Harry's opinion, enjoyed the entire situation more than was strictly necessary. "I'm pretty sure death will prevent them from standing trial."

"That is where you come in," Snape said. "I have not learned enough of the language to accurately express my thoughts in this situation."

He didn't sound at all pleased, though it certainly wasn't Harry's fault that Snape hadn't picked up Parseltongue as quickly as Anthony. Then a thought struck him.

"Sir? What do you want me to tell her? She can't just, er, 'turn off' her venom."

The look Snape gave him told Harry very clearly that he should close his mouth and stop making a fool of himself. "I have brewed a potion that will temporarily alter the snake's poison so that the only effect will be a targeted paralysis."

"Alright," Harry said. "You want me to ask her to help, and to take the potion?"

Snape gave him a sharp nod, and Harry asked. Unsurprisingly, the cobra did not immediately jump at the chance.

" _I like killing things,_ " she said. " _Why would I let you handicap me?_ "

" _It would be temporary,_ " Harry tried to explain. Snape seemed to have caught a fair amount of what was being said, or at least enough to help.

" _Potion make venom better,_ " he tried. Harry looked at him, confused. It very clearly did  _not_ make the venom better. That was the issue. The cobra seemed similarly affronted. Snape grimaced.

"Stronger," he snapped in English. Harry nodded with comprehension and repeated the word in Parseltongue.

" _Potion make venom stronger,_ " Snape hissed, and this time the cobra looked to Harry for confirmation. Harry hoped he was right in what he thought Snape meant.

" _It will make the venom much stronger, and the only difference is that it won't kill your victims,_ " he said. Snape was nodding, so Harry assumed that either he'd been right or Snape had misunderstood the Parseltongue. Either way worked for him.

The cobra considered this. " _I could always kill them another way, if they are at my mercy._ " She seemed to enjoy the idea. " _I could kill them more slowly, so that they can watch themselves die._ "

Snape noticed Harry's disturbed expression and asked for a direct translation. When Harry finished, Snape was smirking and running his fingers along the cobra's scales fondly. Harry tried to ignore the unholy glee emanating from both snake and Snape, and changed the subject.

" _You would be aiming to bite two specific humans,_ " he said, and began to explain the situation.

* * *

The  _next_ next morning, Lupin called Harry into his office. The snakes were already on the hunt, and Harry felt hopeful.

"Harry, I've been thinking, and I feel that you did the right thing," he said. Harry blinked at him, confused. "With the newspaper article," Lupin supplied helpfully.

"Oh." Harry nodded his comprehension. He was glad Lupin had finally forgiven him for that. He'd missed talking to his professor. "Good. Thank you, sir."

Lupin went on. "It was a horrendously stupid thing to do at the time, but it will serve us well now if Sirius turns out to be innocent."

Harry frowned. That added a bit of a sting.

"Dumbledore is taking measures to capture Pettigrew and Sirius," Lupin told Harry, who nodded along, already familiar with the situation. "If they step foot on the grounds, they will be unable to leave."

Harry nodded some more, intrigued. He wondered what kind of wards could manage that. Something to do with animagi?

"That's where you come in," Lupin said, and a wave of deja-vu swept over Harry. "I think I am correct in saying that you have a friendship of sorts with Filch?"

Harry nodded, wondering where Lupin might be going with this. He hoped it wasn't where he thought.

"We need to get the Marauder's Map back," Lupin said, and Harry cursed inside his head. He'd been worried this would be about the Map. "I think you can do it. Professor or no, Filch would never give it back to me."

It sounded like he might have already tried. Harry amused himself with the thought of his professor skulking around Filch's office while Lupin began outlining various strategies that would place Harry inside the office and Filch outside it for an extended period of time. Harry shifted uncomfortably. He should probably say something.

Or he could just keep the Map, and keep an eye on it himself. That's what Draco or Blaise would do. Pansy would have left the office already, having explained that she'd tried and it wasn't there.

But the expression on Lupin's face was so alive. Harry hadn't ever seen his professor this animated. It could have been because of the possibility of his old friend's innocence, or because he was plotting something similar to a Marauder prank, but he seemed happy.

Draco was probably going to push him off his broom for this. Pansy would ensure they were flying at a high altitude when he did it.

"Sir? Er, sir?"

Lupin stopped and looked up at Harry expectantly. Harry opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again and said, "I have the Map already."

Lupin stared at him, then smiled widely. "That's fantastic, Harry! Where is it?" He looked at Harry's pockets as though he might have it with him. Harry did, in fact, have it with him, but he wasn't quite ready to give it up. He needed a bit longer. He wasn't sure if he was going to get it back.

"It's in my dormitory," he lied. Lupin beamed at him.

"Perfect," Lupin said. "Meet me in my office after lunch, and bring it with you."

Harry nodded, and Lupin dismissed him. Harry paused when he was far enough away from Lupin's office and kicked himself in the shin.

"Dammit," he muttered, and went to class.

* * *

It was Blaise that reacted the worst to the news. He slapped Harry in the back of the head. Hard.

"Ow!"

"You idiot!" Blaise said. "Now what do you plan to do? We all know you aren't going to let the adults handle this. You've essentially blinded yourself!"

Harry rubbed at his head while Draco and Pansy nodded. He shrugged.

"I know, I'm an idiot. I still have it with me, though. He doesn't want it until after lunch."

"Tell him you lost it," Pansy said immediately. "Tell him Draco stole it."

Draco objected. "Hey! Why can't Blaise have stolen it?"

"Because you're the more believable thief," Pansy informed him. Draco looked to Harry for backup, but Harry could only shrug. She made a good point.

"Why did Draco steal it though?" Blaise asked. Pansy looked thoughtful.

"Harry doesn't actually have to 'know'," she said. "You could just say he borrows it sometimes, even."

"But then he'd want it tomorrow," Draco said, then his eyes landed on Harry. "Wait. This isn't going to work."

Pansy looked at Draco, then at Harry. Her face fell. "Oh. You're right. What was I thinking?"

Harry looked between them, confused. "What? What is it?"

"Harry, you're a terrible liar," Pansy said in gentle tone. "Especially with something as elaborate as this."

Harry was offended. "I spent months lying to you all about my job with Filch!" he said indignantly. "Not one of you knew what was going on."

Draco snickered. "Yes, but it was clear as day that you were lying. We just didn't know what about. I mean, spells that require lemons? Really?"

"That's still a classic," Blaise said, chuckling. "I thought it would get old after a while, but it's been years and it's still hilarious."

"No, no, no. 'I'm completely unaware of my family fortune and so I'm working for the squib caretaker' was ten times better," Draco said, grinning madly at Harry, who was not nearly so amused.

Harry glared ineffectively as they sniggered. Pansy at least had her hand over her mouth in a failed attempt at hiding her laughter.

Harry huffed. "Fine," he said. "I won't lie. Since apparently I'm such a failure at it, I'll just give him the Map."

This did not have the intended effect of sobering them up. "No, no, wait, Harry," Blaise managed to say, still laughing. "You could tell him...tell him that you and Anthony lost it while attempting a mashed potato ritual at lunch."

Harry stormed off in what he hoped was a very impressive huff. He had a feeling they were still laughing at him, though, so maybe not.

* * *

After he very reluctantly gave the Map to Lupin and finished his classes for the day, Harry decided to get back at his friends by associating only with Gryffindors until curfew.

"Hey Neville, hey Ron," he said, joining them on the grass by the Quidditch pitch. He was met with twin glares.

"What?" he asked, eyes wide. He looked up at the sky and saw red-clad flyers. "Oh wait, the team is practicing, right?"

They nodded, still suspicious. Harry thought he would wait a while before cleaning the seventh floor again. "We already played your team for the year. I'm not going to learn anything for the game against Hufflepuff by sitting here, talking to you."

After a moment to think on this, Neville nodded and Ron shrugged.

"What's new?" Neville asked as Harry relaxed.

"Slytherins are gits," Harry said darkly. "Though I suppose that's not exactly new." Ron brightened and slapped him on the back.

"And don't you forget it," he grinned. Harry assumed Ron was joking. Either way, no Gryffindor insulted Slytherin and got away with it. It was practically a bylaw of the House. Harry felt obligated to respond.

"So how does it feel to know your pet rat of twelve years is a thirty something, fat, balding guy who used to be friends with my dad?" Harry asked. Ron grimaced.

"Do you really have to put it like that?" he asked plaintively. Harry shrugged.

"How else should I put it?" he asked.

"Well," Neville said, "Up in the Tower, we've all been restricted to saying that Scabbers is living in the giant rat-hole in the sky."

Harry started to say something, but Ron interrupted him with a stubborn set to his face.

"He's dead, and that's it."

"You carried him around in your pocket everywhere," Harry reminisced.

Ron shuddered. "Slytherin git."

Harry grinned. "He slept in your bed, didn't he?"

Ron seemed to be reaching his breaking point, so Harry let it drop with one last snicker, and they fell into a somewhat amiable silence.

"You know, that actually makes a lot of sense," he said suddenly. "He was always trying to get to Pettigrew. He wasn't after me at all."

"Huh," Neville said. A beetle buzzed past his nose and he swatted at it.

"I hope the snakes catch them soon," Harry said thoughtfully. Neville and Ron seemed mildly alarmed by this statement, but remained silent.

* * *

The snakes came back regularly to tell Harry and Snape that they'd found nothing. Snape suggested that they search the outskirts of Hogsmede more thoroughly.

Harry's duelling lessons were going well, to the point that Snape had decided to finally incorporate nonverbal spells.

"Focus is key," Snape told him after a particularly frustrating lesson. "The purpose of saying a spell aloud is to narrow your focus. Nonverbal casting has nothing to do with your skill level and everything to do with your ability to  _concentrate_."

This did not reassure Harry, who had been continually distracted lately. Black and Pettigrew were only the beginning of the list. Quidditch was taking up more of his time than was healthy, and despite requiring upward of twenty hours a week on a broom, Flint still managed to find time to yell at Harry for the detentions he accumulated because he hadn't finished his homework. Draco, whom Harry hated for managing to turn in most of his homework on time without Hermione's help, said that Flint was breaking under the pressure of his final Quidditch match.

"He's not likely to have to repeat again," Draco explained. "He doesn't want to leave Hogwarts having lost his final match. The scouts are watching."

April arrived, and it turned out that Hufflepuff had also been practising hard. While Slytherin still won, it was close, and Harry was relieved enough that he let all the death threats Flint had made before the game slide. Draco spent the next few weeks spitting mad at Warrington, though, who hadn't noticed a bludger that nearly took Draco's head off.

One night at dinner, Harry thought he heard a faint hissing sound. He looked around and spotted Anthony rising from his seat at the Ravenclaw table. Harry stood and jogged over to Anthony as he bent down and retrieved Harry's snake from the floor. He could tell she was agitated by the way she twisted and coiled in Anthony's palm. Her hissing was audible all the way up to the staff table, and Snape had looked up as well, watching them with narrow eyes.

"I don't have the faintest idea what she's saying," Anthony said when Harry arrived. "She's talking way too fast."

Harry took her and hissed at her to calm down and start over.

" _We cornered the creature,_ " she hissed. " _And largesnake is fighting it and I tried to help but his magic weakened her and she needs help and-_ "

" _Calm down,_ " Harry said. " _Where are they?_ " She began winding herself around his wrist as he spoke.

" _By the largest birch tree past the tall wall to the east of the water,_ " she said, and it took Harry a second to figure out where she meant.

Harry made his way up to the Head table and said, "Pettigrew's just outside the wards, at the east entrance," he said. Dumbledore, Snape and Lupin stood as one.

"Stay here," Dumbledore commanded as Harry made a move to follow them. Harry stood by the head table as the three professors swept out of the Hall. Anthony stood next to him, waiting. Once they heard the doors in the Entrance Hall slam shut, they walked calmly out of the Great Hall, then ran for the dungeons.

"What's going on?" Draco asked, having followed when Harry left dinner. Blaise and Pansy were with him.

"We're going," Harry said calmly. "Pettigrew is outside the wards."

Pansy stepped directly into Harry's path. Her face was a mask of incredulity. "You're not serious."

"I'm bringing the Invisibility Cloak," Harry said. Her expression did not change, and when Harry tried to step around her, she only moved to block his path again.

"That's funny, Harry," she said. There was a warning in her words. "Really, very clever. Let's go back and eat dinner now."

"They're outside the wards," Harry said, staring her down. "We'll be inside. Perfectly safe."

Pansy's mouth tightened. "Draco agrees with me, don't you Draco? Harry's being irrational."

Draco's eyes widened. "Er." Harry stared him down. "Erm, I... Well." He backed slowly away from the proceedings as he fumbled for words. Harry gave him up as a lost cause.

Anthony spoke up. "I won't let him do anything stupid, Pansy."

Harry was offended, but Pansy spoke before he could say anything.

"Well there's a relief!" Sarcasm dripped from every word. "In that case, carry on, the insane fucking Ravenclaw will take care of things."

"Pansy!"

At this most unfortunate point, Hermione showed up.

"What's going on?" she asked. "Did they find Black or Pettigrew?"

She faltered at the heated glares Harry and Pansy were exchanging. Blaise stepped up next to her and took her arm.

"I suggest we stay out of this," he instructed, stepping backward with Hermione in tow. Harry spared them a glance and went back to being furious at Pansy.

"I'm going," he said coldly. "I'm going to be careful. But I need to see this happen."

"You just need to be involved," Pansy retorted. "There doesn't always need to be an adventure, Harry. Snape  _and_  Dumbledore _and_ Lupin are all out there. They can handle it alone."

Harry gritted his teeth, and glanced at Hermione and Blaise again, who were watching with worry.

"Fine," he snapped. Pansy blinked. "Fine. Let's go have dinner."

It seemed that no one had expected that. Pansy recovered from her surprise and narrowed her eyes at him. "Fine," she said. "Let's."

* * *

"Hermione, I need to borrow your Time Turner."

Dinner was over, and Harry had managed to distract Pansy sufficiently to escape. He sought out Hermione, who had left at the same time, and made his proposal.

Hermione pursed her lips at him impatiently. "Give me one - no, two good reasons why I should abuse the trust of the faculty and the use of a highly controlled magical device for you."

Harry stared at her, thinking hard. Dinner had given him time to pause and let the adrenaline run its course, and now the absolute necessity that had driven him earlier was ebbing. He had reasons. He was just beginning to doubt they'd be good enough for Hermione's tastes.

"Oh good, you're still in the castle." And Blaise was here now, how wonderful. "Pansy said she'd castrate me if I let you get away. Draco wanted to come, but Pansy was worried he'd help you club me over the head and escape."

Harry spared him an irritated glare, though he was glad that Draco, at least, was still on his side, and turned back to Hermione, who was waiting patiently for an answer.

"Pettigrew is right outside the wards," Harry said finally. "He's the key to this whole thing. I've been caught up in this all year, and I just want to  _know._ "

Hermione watched him for a moment, and when he didn't say anything, she prompted him. "And reason number two?"

There was a look in Hermione's eyes that scared Harry a little bit. She usually only got that look before she spent an hour lecturing Ron and Dudley about taking proper care of library books. Madam Pince never scolded her for raising her voice in the library during those rants. Harry's hopes screamed and flailed as they died tiny, painful deaths.

"You're not going to let me, are you?" Harry asked, defeated. Hermione shook her head.

"Do I need to tell you why?"

"No," Harry sighed, looking down at the floor.

"It would be a dangerous, stupid, pointless thing to do," Hermione elaborated, just in case. Harry nodded.

"You're right, I guess." He didn't know what he'd been thinking. Hermione didn't even want to use the Time Turner for  _naps._  He should have just gotten his Invisibility Cloak and hoped for the best. There was no hope for that now, though, what with Blaise standing by. Hermione nodded at them both and continued up the stairs.

Blaise had a curious expression on his face that Harry decided to ignore as they walked downstairs.

"Did she catch you on your way out or something?"

Harry shrugged. Blaise looked thoughtful.

"Interesting how you were nowhere near the front doors."

"Interesting how you don't know how to shut your mouth," Harry muttered. Blaise grinned at him.

"I know she's a Gryffindor, Harry," Blaise said, amused. "But that doesn't make her good at adventure."

Harry just shrugged again, frowning, despite being pleased that Blaise found his own conclusion. Harry might not be good at lying, but he was fine at helping others lie to themselves.


	14. The Drive

Harry and Blaise waited in the Entrance Hall for a bit before Snape, Dumbledore, and Lupin returned. Snape held the cobra in one hand and a small black container in the other. The cobra was limp, but Snape looked grimly satisfied. Lupin was cradling his arm, the expression on his face eerily similar to Snape's, and Dumbledore led the way. His expression was also grim, but any satisfaction he might have been feeling was not in his face.

Harry caught Snape's eye, who held up first the snake, then the container. Harry nodded. Lupin smiled encouragingly at Harry, so Harry smiled back. Now that he was certain of their success, Harry had plans to stake out Snape's office for more details. Blaise followed Harry down the stairs into the dungeons, and didn't look surprised at their destination.

" _She's dead._ " Harry looked down at his snake when she spoke, and nodded.

" _She is. I'm sorry._ "

The snake twined between Harry's fingers a few times before settling at his wrist again.

" _She wanted to eat me. If we didn't have time to hunt._ " Harry blinked, surprised.

" _She wanted to eat me, too,_ " he said. " _She was bloodthirsty._ "

" _She was._ " Her tone was pensive, almost sad. " _I will miss her._ "

Harry hissed his agreement. He was somewhat worried about what Snape would replace her with.

Blaise sat silently while Harry and his snake discussed the cobra, and when they were done, Harry translated.

"So wait, she's upset?" Blaise asked again. He was having difficulty with the idea of Harry and his snake mourning someone who wanted to digest them.

Harry nodded.

"And you're upset."

Harry nodded again. Blaise shook his head.

"Is this to do with that 'snake culture' thing you're always talking about with Anthony?"

Harry nodded solemnly. Blaise rolled his eyes.

"Fair enough."

Snape arrived, finally, and sent Blaise away. He waved Harry into his office and they sat down at the desk.

"My snake gives her condolences," Harry said. Snape nodded once. "I assume you caught him?"

"We did." There was a gleam of vicious gratification in Snape's eyes now. "He begged. The Aurors have him now, along with our statements, more's the pity."

Harry suppressed a smile. "What about Black, then?"

Snape grimaced. "If they ever find him he'll have a trial, after Pettigrew's."

Harry nodded. He wasn't likely to get a play by play account of what happened from Snape. On the other hand, it was Monday, and they'd missed their meeting because of Pettigrew's capture. Snape seemed to be thinking along the same lines. He pointed his wand at Harry deliberately, giving him barely enough time to jump from his seat as he cast the first spell. Harry focussed on not moving his lips as he breathed the words to the counter. It failed and he dove out of the way, much to Snape's displeasure.

* * *

The capture of Peter Pettigrew made the papers the next day. Rita Skeeter published what Lupin said was an eerily accurate description of the events following their exit from the castle.

"She didn't interview any of us, that I'm aware of," he told Harry, before narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "Harry."

Harry blinked innocently at him, and took another bite of chocolate. He really hadn't done anything this time. "Yes sir?"

"You've talked to this reporter before. Did you follow us after Dumbledore specifically told you not to?"

Harry denied this with a straight face, and paid close attention to how the expression felt. He was determined to lie convincingly at Pansy, Blaise, and Draco, and the first step was being aware of how his face acted when he was being truthful, so that he might replicate it when he wasn't.

Lupin eyed him for a moment, and seemed to find him innocent. His face lapsed back into thoughtful curiosity.

Harry picked the newspaper up from the desk and looked through the article again. He'd read it at breakfast, but he wanted to look through it again with Lupin's guarantee that it was practically all true in mind.

Pettigrew had kept the cobra at bay with the wand that he'd stolen from a house in Hogsmede, though the cobra fought hard. Harry felt proud of her. According to the article, the fight hadn't lasted long after Dumbledore arrived, though Lupin was wounded when his attempt to talk to Pettigrew backfired. What took so long was Snape's successful attempts to turn Pettigrew into a sniveling lump of guilty, terrified rat. According to Skeeter, Pettigrew had been crying and confessing to anything Snape asked him by the end of it. Harry felt vaguely proud of Snape, though Skeeter's portrayal of him wasn't exactly kind.

Harry left Lupin's office after a while, and headed for the library. In a bizarre twist, Hermione wasn't there. Anthony and Luna were, though, so Harry sat down and said hello.

"You were right, Luna," Harry said, then paused. "Well, probably not about the Stubby Boardman thing, but about there being more to it than we thought."

Luna smiled at him. "Thank you, Harry. You could ask him, you know."

Harry blinked. "Ask him?"

"When you meet him. If he's Stubby Boardman."

"Oh." Harry considered this. Meeting Sirius Black had been a very vague notion up to this point, though it was a distinct possibility. "I suppose I could. Alright." Harry grinned at her. "I'll owl you when I find out."

Luna nodded in her absentminded way and went back to the magazine she'd been looking at. Harry glanced at it and saw runes. Anthony had barely nodded when Harry arrived, so Harry assumed he wasn't going to get any conversation from that quarter.

"What's that?"

There was a pause. Harry waited for an awkward minute before repeating his question. Luna finally looked up at him, and her already protuberant eyes widened.

"They're rebus puzzles," she said. Harry frowned at the page. He had heard of rebuses, but he'd never seen them in rune form.

"I'm taking Ancient Runes," Harry said. "Can I try too?"

Luna didn't respond, but she did shift the magazine so that Harry could see more clearly. She had a thoughtful frown on her face. Harry looked at the first puzzle and wrinkled his forehead.

"The only one of those I recognise is the first one." Harry pointed. Luna blinked and looked at it.

"That's because the second isn't a rune at all, it's a 'not-equal' sign, and the third one is two runes put together."

Harry's mouth fell open very slightly, and he stared some more. "Are they supposed to mean rocky water or something?"

"Close."

Anthony glanced up from his book and looked at the puzzle for about one second. "No man is an island?"

Luna nodded, and Anthony went back to his book, missing Harry's consternation entirely. He looked at the second puzzle, then up at Luna, who was clearly halfway down the page by this point.

"My brain hurts," Harry said. "I'm going to go find something easier to read."

"There's a children's section near the Charms section," Anthony said, smirking behind his book. "I used to wonder why."

Harry rolled his eyes and finished Anthony's sentence. "But now you don't."

"Nope."

* * *

Sirius Black didn't turn up until Pettigrew was sentenced to life in Azkaban. In fact, Harry was reading the article about the trial and eating his breakfast when Dumbledore rose from his seat at the Head table and left the Great Hall. The only reason Harry paid any attention at all was because Lupin followed him.

Exams were coming up soon, and Harry, who had already been ignoring Blaise's attempts to quiz him on his Potions theory, ignored him even more obviously by standing up and following Lupin out of the Hall. He hadn't been asked to stay put this time.

Dumbledore and Lupin were already long gone, and Harry poked his head out the door cautiously. He felt someone pushing at him, and then Draco was there too, peering out the door next to him.

"What're we looking at?" he asked as Dumbledore and Lupin strode across the grass, wands out.

"Not sure," Harry said. "But it's bound to be important."

A large black dog trotted up to them before they got thirty meters from the castle. Draco sucked in a breath.

"Didn't you say Black's animagus form is a dog?"

Harry nodded mutely and watched as the dog whined and rolled over on its stomach. Lupin laughed, and the dog rolled back over and stood on two feet. After a brief moment, a skeletally thin man stood in his place and hugged Lupin.

Dumbledore lowered his wand and spoke to the two men. Harry could see the twinkle in his eyes from where he stood, but whatever he said made Lupin and Black break apart and nod solemnly.

They turned to walk up to the castle, and Harry and Draco ducked back inside and ran back into the Great Hall before they could be caught.

"What's happened?" Blaise asked as they sat down again. Harry opened his mouth to answer, but Draco beat him to it.

"Sirius Black was out on the grounds," he said, shrugging. "He's probably already in the castle."

Harry rolled his eyes as several people around them began to look alarmed.

"Dumbledore and Lupin have him," he explained, and Draco grinned at the exasperated look Harry was giving him. "He turned himself in."

"I'm surprised Snape didn't go, too," Pansy remarked, and they all looked up at the Head Table. Snape's expression was sullen.

"He probably got told to stay put," Harry said, grinning. "I like that I'm not the only one."

Snape looked over at the Slytherin table in that moment, and they all busied themselves with their pancakes. It wouldn't do for Snape to see that his students were laughing at him. Slytherin or no, he might kill them all.

* * *

"You're  _leaving_."

Harry stood in the door of Lupin's office, having stopped there, startled, when he saw the state of things. Trunks and boxes filled the space; it was obvious what was going on here.

Lupin looked up from a stack of parchment he had been sorting through. "Well, yes," he said apologetically. Harry glared at him.

"Why?"

Lupin sighed and set the parchment down. "It's unlikely that the Wizengamot will do anything  _but_  let Sirius off, considering the embarrassment this entire situation has caused for them, and the fact that Pettigrew has already admitted to framing him. I'd like to be there for him. I've already talked to Dumbledore, and he agrees it's for the best."

"But," Harry fumbled for words. "Why do you have to leave?"

Lupin regarded him for a moment. Then he lifted a stack of books out of Harry's usual chair, and started making tea, the teacups and bags being about the only things not in disarray. Harry sat down and accepted his cup when Lupin offered it.

"Sirius has spent the past thirteen years in the presence of dementors," Lupin said after a moment. Harry bowed his head, acknowledging this. "He would kill me if he knew I thought this, but his emotional state is very delicate. He needs a friend, and not one that has other demands on his time."

Harry sighed. Lupin had a point, and Harry couldn't begrudge him time spent with a friend he'd thought gone for so long. Though he sorely wanted to.

"You're the best defense teacher we've ever had."

"I don't know whether to take that as a compliment to me, or as a dire insult to Dumbledore," Lupin said.

Harry looked up and saw Lupin smiling at him. "I've heard about Lockhart."

Harry laughed in spite of himself. "Alright, so it's not as complimentary as it sounds," he agreed. "But it's meant to be."

Lupin nodded and took another sip of his tea. "I'll take it in the spirit it was given, then. Thank you."

Harry looked up at Lupin hopefully. "One more story about my dad?"

Lupin appeared surprised. "Harry, just because I'm no longer your professor, doesn't mean we won't be seeing each other."

Harry blinked, surprised. "What?"

"Sirius has expressed an adamant desire to meet you," Lupin said with a fond smile. "Even your being in Slytherin has not put him off in the slightest - not that it should," he added hastily when Harry began to frown. "I imagine you'll be receiving an owl sometime this summer, after the trial is over and Sirius has settled into the life of a free man."

Harry nodded, remembering the conversation he'd had with Luna on this very subject.

"That sounds great," Harry said. "I want to meet him as well. And I have a few questions for him."

* * *

The term ended a few days later. Harry had been following the papers religiously since Black turned himself in, and things seemed to be going the way Lupin had predicted. The Wizengamot was trying to keep everything very quiet, but Skeeter's article the day after Black's return hadn't allowed for that. She painted him as a Ministry scapegoat, which wasn't entirely inaccurate from Harry's point of view. After that, another reporter covered the trial, the same one that had covered Pettigrew's. It was mostly a formality, though he was charged with being an unregistered animagus, and with breaking out of prison. He was found guilty of both, but his time in Azkaban covered the penalties for both crimes with plenty to spare, so the Wizengamot ended up paying him reparations anyway.

Harry and Dudley spent the car ride home from Kings Cross trying to explain the situation with Sirius Black to Uncle Vernon. It wasn't going very well.

"You have a  _convicted felon_  for a godfather," Vernon shouted, nearly crashing into the car in front of him when Harry mentioned that little detail.

"No," Harry said. "He was never convicted. He was framed."

"He spent thirteen years in wizard prison," Dudley added unhelpfully. Harry elbowed him in the ribs.

Uncle Vernon's face was turning purple. Harry remembered that face very well, and decided to spare all their lives and wait until they were out of the moving vehicle before continuing the conversation.

"So how about that Gryffindor Quidditch team," Harry said. "Gee, Dudley, you sure are getting good on a broom."

* * *

The promised letter from Sirius Black didn't arrive for a month. Looking back, Harry felt relieved that he'd been given such a long time to reconcile Vernon to the idea. To be honest, he hadn't reconciled him at all; he'd simply convinced him to stop yelling whenever the subject came up. They finally came to an agreement that, firstly, Sirius was never to step foot on the property, and secondly, that Dudley was never to meet him. Harry later understood this to mean that Uncle Vernon was never to know when Dudley met him. Dudley had very earnestly explained the subtle difference, and Harry didn't really mind as long as his cousin kept his mouth shut.

The letter was written in Lupin's handwriting, which Harry found interesting, as it purported to be from Black. It said things like, _"I know you might not be aware, but I'm your godfather"_ , and  _"I'm sorry for all the trouble this year"_. It was very generic and formal, even the invitation to come visit,  _"…if you wish to speak in person, and I'll understand if you'd like to bring a friend along…"_

Harry felt mildly disappointed until he found a hastily scribbled post script in another handwriting entirely, apologizing for "Remus' boring sense of propriety" and explaining hurriedly that the Firebolt had indeed been a present from Black, who had managed to buy it in his animagus form somehow.

Harry was greatly cheered and wrote back, accepting the invitation and explaining Uncle Vernon's terms. Two days later, Lupin arrived in a clunky old Ford and Harry grabbed his knapsack and ran out the door, thankful that Dudley had taken up soothing Uncle Vernon.

"No, he's not the convict, he's a professor..."

"Hi," Harry said as he climbed into the car, knapsack on his lap. Lupin responded in kind and they drove away. After several minutes of quiet, Harry began to reach awkwardly for conversation points.

"Er, so how's your summer been, sir?"

Lupin glanced at him and quickly back at the road. "It's been fine, Harry. I wish Arthur had explained all these buttons more clearly though."

Harry's eyes widened and he finally noticed how lost Lupin looked in the driver's seat. He flipped a switch experimentally, and the turn signal came on.

"Oh no, does that mean I go left?" He frowned at the dash and turned into what appeared to be an alley. Harry clutched his knapsack closer. They were heading for a dead end.

"Professor?" Harry said uncertainly. "Er, I don't think we were supposed to turn here. You don't usually do what the turn signal tells you to unless you already meant to."

Lupin put on the brake and peered out the windows at the brick walls surrounding them. "No, no. This looks fine."

Harry began to wonder if he should have brought a friend after all, and reached for his wand. Just in case.

Lupin began fiddling with the levers and buttons again, unaware of Harry's movements.

"It's one of these buttons," he said thoughtfully as the boot popped open. "He should have labelled them more clearly…"

He pressed another, slightly larger button, and vanished. Harry jumped in his seat. The whole car had disappeared, including him.

"There," Lupin said, satisfied. "Now which one makes you go up…Oh, bu-darn. I can't see them anymore."

Harry considered getting out of the car. Lupin would hardly notice, and then maybe they both wouldn't die in the flaming wreckage.

Before he could begin to feel around for the handle, though, Lupin made a victorious sound and they began to rise in place. Harry found that simply clutching his knapsack wasn't enough anymore, and instead clutched the seat. It reminded him that he was actually in a car and not just sitting on air.

When they were above the houses around them, Lupin cleared his throat. "Here we go then," he said, and they began to sail over the rooftops. Once Harry was able to accept that they probably weren't going to die, he started to enjoy the view.

They were up in the clouds, now, and Lupin was apparently playing with levers and buttons again. Harry could hear the windscreen wipers go on.

"Is that really necessary, sir?" Harry asked. They couldn't see the windows, after all. What did it matter if they were a bit cloudy?

"What did I do?" Lupin asked, curious.

Harry clutched at his seat again. "Maybe you should just stop touching things. Sir. Er, no offence or anything…"

The windscreen wipers stayed on for the rest of the trip.

* * *

Lupin began to mutter and, Harry feared, fiddle with things again as they descended. They landed in a large field, and Harry let out a breath he only then realised he'd been holding. Flying on a broom under his own power was something entirely apart from what he just experienced. He thought he might take the Knight Bus back to Privet Drive.

"We're somewhere near Exeter," Lupin said as they climbed out of the car. "The Weasleys live nearby. In fact, this is their car. Arthur was good enough to let me borrow it for the day."

Harry nodded as they walked, and waited for a house to appear. Lupin stopped instead by a sapling and took hold of the trunk. Harry followed suit after Lupin glanced at him.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," Lupin said, a faint smile on his face, and suddenly a house grew up around them so that they were in a courtyard.

"Sirius insisted on the password." Lupin let go of the sapling and began to walk toward a pair of sliding glass doors. "He also insisted on the house being made mostly of windows."

Harry looked up at the walls around him and realised this was a very accurate description. The only parts of the outer walls that weren't glass were the doorframes. Harry could see straight through one side of the house and out the other, into the field they had just been walking in.

It occurred to him that, had they been visible, Black would have been able to see them coming for miles from almost anywhere in the house. He certainly knew they were there now, given that he had appeared very suddenly in the doorway.

He looked much better than when Harry had seen him last, out on the grounds at Hogwarts. He was still thin, but clean shaven and dressed nicely. He looked less like an escaped convict and more like a recovering invalid.

"Hey, Moony," Black said, and turned to Harry. "It's good to meet you at last, Harry." Black eyed him for a moment, and smiled. "You look exactly like your father, but the eyes are purely Lily's."

Harry grinned at him in spite of himself as they went inside.

"It's good to finally meet you, sir," Harry said. Black looked surprised.

"Don't call me  _sir_ ," he said, glancing at Remus. "He's a sir. For Merlin's sake, call me Sirius."

They all settled down in an area with several sofas scattered around and began talking. From what Harry could see of the house (which was most of the first floor), it looked like Sirius preferred open spaces and lots of light. There were next to no walls, and the only delineations between the rooms were in the form of different types of flooring. Where there were walls, they were offset by incredibly wide doorframes, and ended up looking more like pillars as a result.

Sirius noticed him looking around. "We bought the house and completely redesigned it." His expression was satisfied. "It used to be a huge maze of rooms and walls and next to no windows. You should see the upstairs. In fact," and here his expression turned nervous, "If you wanted, you could pick out one of the upstairs rooms, for when you come visit."

Harry looked around again, then back at Sirius, who was watching him hopefully.

"Aunt Marge is coming to stay in a week, which means I'm going to be avoiding the house anyway," Harry said with a shrug. "So if you don't mind such short notice…"

Sirius was delighted. "Perfect!" he said. "You can even stay for your birthday, if your relatives don't mind. We'll have a party."

Harry laughed a little, stunned. "Uncle Vernon wouldn't mind at all," Harry said. "I normally try to disappear for part of the summer anyway. That sounds great."

"That's an idea," Sirius said, perking up further. "The Quidditch World Cup is in August. You could stay until then and we'll just take you back to Hogwarts. It's brilliant!"

Lupin spoke up at this point, glancing between Harry and Sirius uncertainly. "Now, Sirius, I'm sure Harry wants to spend some time with his family -"

Harry rolled his eyes and interrupted, before the disappointment that was beginning to wash over Sirius' face could take hold.

"Dudley won't mind," Harry said. "That sounds great, if you'll have me."

And it was settled, nearly. Lupin sighed and gave Sirius a significant look, which worried Harry, because Sirius sobered very quickly.

"Harry," Lupin said. "If you're going to be staying here for such an extended period of time, there are certain things you should be aware of, so that you can decide if you're still comfortable with your decision."

Harry nodded. "Okay." Lupin was watching Harry very seriously, and very nervously.

"Once a month, I am not quite myself," Lupin said uncomfortably. Harry nodded again, uncertain as to where he might be going with this. "You may have noticed that I sometimes missed classes. There's a potion that I take, that helps me to keep calm, and there's a basement level in this house that is very securely warded. I want you to understand that there is no danger."

Harry thought Lupin probably expected another nod, so he gave him one. He had suspicions as to what this might be about, but they were incredibly outlandish.

"Remus is always pretty careful," Sirius said encouragingly. "He doesn't let his furry little problem get out of control."

Remus gave him a faint smile, and Harry stared. He was only confirming Harry's second most outlandish theory at this point. It occurred to him that Snape usually had a reason for teaching the lessons he did, and as a substitute for Lupin's class, teaching a lesson on werewolves could only be a giant hint.

But then, Harry could have the wrong idea. This was awkward. And now Sirius and Lupin were both watching him expectantly. Harry figured another nod was in order.

"The potion that Professor Snape brews for me helps me to keep my mind," Lupin elaborated, clearly feeling the awkwardness. "I'm perfectly myself, only not. And Sirius spends that time with me, so you should know you'll be spending certain nights essentially alone in the house."

Harry nodded. Werewolf was looking more and more likely, especially since Professor Snape knew. But he still couldn't  _say_  it. What if he was wrong? He wished Lupin would just spit it out.

"Do you understand what I'm telling you, Harry?" Lupin asked. He was fidgeting with one of his sleeves. Harry very nearly nodded again, before realising that might give them the wrong idea.

"Er, I think so," Harry said. He decided to turn the tables on Lupin, and gave him an expectant look. Lupin was startled, if his expression was anything to go by, and embarrassed. This was far too awkward for words.

"I'm a werewolf," said Lupin.

 _Oh thank god_ , Harry thought, relieved that it was finally out there. He felt the tension drain out of the room like a plug had been pulled, and gave Lupin a small smile.

"Okay," he said, nodding more casually now. Lupin blinked at him.

"Okay?" he asked.

"Yep," Harry said, and Sirius grinned at him. Harry grinned back. "So I was hoping to take the Knight Bus, next time I come here. That shouldn't be a problem, right? No offence, Professor Lupin."

Lupin still looked startled. "None taken, and I'm not your professor anymore," he said. "You don't have any questions?"

Harry shrugged. "You said you were safe, behind wards and using some potion Snape brewed for you. It all sounds safe to me. I assume I'm meant to keep this quiet?"

"Yes, if you could," Lupin said with relief. Harry gave him a reassuring smile. Hopefully Lupin would let him change the subject this time, and put the awkwardness behind them. Harry really didn't care about the werewolf thing, as long as certain precautions were taken. Which they clearly were. Anyway.

"Oh, Sirius, that reminds me," Harry said. "Have you ever heard of Stubby Boardman?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of third year! Onward to fourth!


End file.
